What my cat taught me

Otherwise known as -- What my Cat TRIES to Teach me

For the past couple of years I've been noticing distinctly that it appears that my cat has been attempting to help me -- and even teach me things.   Perhaps the word trying is not the best choice of words.  I don't think willow the cat tries -- that would require mental capacity.  Rather, willow the cat is just living by instinct...and perhaps intuition.

Willow lives in the now, the present.  Just observing her sheer joy of life in this way teaches me that perhaps I should do the same.  After all, it's working for her and she is very happy.   Me, I'm only happy for fleeting periods of time...like when I'm living in the moment, or playing, or hanging out with friends.  So perhaps the student has awakened in me and by observing Willow, the extra spill-off benefit is learning.

Willow tells me every night -- when it's time to sleep...about 11 pm or 12 pm each night.  Willow jumps onto the bed, cries, skips about, whines, howls, and even tap dances across my laptop, the laptop keyboard, and appears in a state of distress.  When I don't listen to Willow, like last night, invariably I regret not listening...as I suffer for it the next day.  Today, which is such a day -- this sunny day in which I slept in, and now have less sun and fun on a gorgeous Sunday.

Willow the cat tells me when to get up in the morning!  Again, Willow whines,  incessantly with a distressful voice that touches the motherly instinct inside me.  Oh my, I must answer the call....eventually.  Of course, sometimes I put the pillow over my head.  Willow jumps back and forth over my back, causing the bed to become a trampoline that bounces my reverie.  When Willow feels desperate, she grabs my hair between her teeth and pulls.  Now she is the one acting like the mother cat.  When I don't get up, I regret not listening to wise Willow.  Either a sunny weekend day gets away from me...or I'm late for work again on a weekday.

Willow the cat sits by her brushing-station when she wants me to brush her.  Her brushing-station is her box of toys and her brush.  Down on my hands and knees and I brush Willow...but thankfully, I then do my back stretches.  I think Willow really wants me to stretch and stay healthy...and the brushing of course, is her reward.

Willow the cat reminds me to play.

And the most wonderful time of day is Willow the cuddling cat on my lap. I need no reminders that cuddling is essential everyday.  I look forward to our evening affection.  Willow the cat's purr is the meditative song that keeps me sane and helps to get those glimpses of living in the moment.

May this humanoid become every listening...Willow has more secrets.  I wonder what she is seeing when she darts her eyes up at the ceiling in a lightning fast surprise?