Cats Sleeping

When I look at my girls, Mz. Lizzie and Lady Jane, curled up on the bed next to me while I write on the computer, I wonder about all this sleeping they do. They are perfectly content to curl up cozily for an hour, awaken to stretch; look over at me, ho-hum –she-is-still-there and then drift back to sleep. They may purr as if they were happily spending time in deep dreams that they refuse to share but if I stand up to get some herb tea, they are up on their feet with the expression “What is going on?”

When I think about it, maybe my girls had a rough former life and are catching up on their rest in this one in order to energize in preparation for the next one. H-m-m-m. I wonder what their last lifetimes were like. Was their past life working nights? Were they cats then or different animals or people?

Cats

I know why there are so many books to choose from when looking for something to read on cats. I smile when I see Lady Jane stretched out under the cloth-covered center table in the entry room of my house. The folds of the burgundy damask add a graceful look to the room and Jane adds a feeling of home to it.

Chuckles cut loose from me when I see her white paw reaching out from under the guest room bed. She’s found a cool spot in summer and warm one in winter. Not to mention the peace of that room between visits of dear friends.

Laughter fills the room when Jane practically sits up for some treats. Whoever heard of a cat acting like a dog? But she loves food. And she talks now. Really!

Jane comes to me when her bowl is getting low on food. She wouldn’t do that two years ago. She would notify her sister and Lizzie would come after me demanding that I follow her to the bowl. And she would never come to me for stroking or to smell the food I’m about to eat as she always does now.

A few years ago the fur along the back ridge of her body became matted. I thought it was a part of her breed. She’s a big cat, rescued from the wilds of Bordentown, New Jersey. Well, the wilds being that her mom and dad were feral cats. But she is definitely part Manx. The Manx cats I researched on line looked just like Jane's back. My dog-grooming friend Laura suggested that she trim Jane of the matted fur. A new cat emerged! It changed her personality completely. So I brush her nearly every day and watch closely for any beginning of clumps forming.

It seems my pets must suffer from my mistakes just like my kids did. Fortunately they love me just like my kids do in spite of my imperfections.