Last week I had to said goodbye to my sweet, snuggly kitty Squiggy (Squiggles, Squiggylicious, Piggy, Mr. Piggles, Pee Wee, Pinky). I feel so honored to have been his human. And I praise God he's at peace.
As much as he was a furry friend to me, he also was somewhat of a spiritual sensei. Here are a few of the things he taught me:
Each new day is a blessing. Welcome it early with loud singing. Very, very early with very, very loud singing.
Time with loved ones is precious. Do anything necessary -- plop down on their newspapers, magazines, phones and iPads -- to get their attention.
Always be there for the people you love. Always. Follow them everywhere -- to the bathroom if you must.
Be easily amused. A catnip mouse equals countless hours of enjoyment. Plunk it in your water bowl, then in your food, and back in your water. Doesn't sound like fun? Just wait until you get to watch your mama clean up after you -- again! -- and hear her shriek when she steps on that soggy, nasty thing in the middle of the night!
Get your rest. Never feel guilty about a morning nap, midmorning nap, afternoon nap, evening nap, even if you slept all night and ... zzzzzzzz.
Take risks. Go ahead, squeeze out through the balcony bars and trek all over the third-story (!) roof! You'll traumatize your mama and be grounded the rest of your nine lives, well six (that trip cost you three lives right there). But, wow meow, what a rush!
Know when to take a restorative time-out. Crawl into bed completely under the covers and stay there for a day -- or entire winter.
Respect your elders. When your much tinier but older, ravenous, diabetic brother moves on to your food after gobbling his, let him. Your reward will be in heaven, or in some Whisker Lickin's treats later on.
Neatness is overrated. Shoes left in the middle of the floor make for lovely lounge furniture.
It's OK to be a bit squishy. It only makes you more cute and lovable.
It's OK to be a lot squishy. You make an impression (quoth the carpet cleaner: "Dang, that's a big cat!").
Fitting in doesn't matter. Be who you are, wherever you happen to be -- even if that's in a small shoebox and the sides are buckling and your flab is bulging.
Be patient. Accept that people are going to ruffle your feathers, well, fur (and zerbert your irresistible fluffy belly) sometimes.
Walk away. When people rub you the wrong way, peacefully saunter off in the other direction. Never scratch or bite anyone in annoyance, no matter how much they asked for it.
Forgive quickly. That klutz probably didn't mean to step on your tail. And she might even brush your fur in consolation.
Spread joy. Purr powerfully, proudly, persistently.
Seek the light. When all seems dark, find that sunny patch of carpet, even if it hurts your cancer-weakened body to walk over to it. There is always a bright spot in every situation -- bask in it.
Email:
jchristman@arkansasonline.com
What's in a Dame is a weekly report from the woman 'hood.
Style on 08/11/2015