Gratitude

Well, it isn't Monday, but I'm finally writing again...  


Actually, on Monday I wanted to write, right on schedule (my own), but my A.D.D. was hitting me hard.  I was unexpectedly put on a new medicine that morning by my doctor, who is new for me.  I don't think I want to re-live that day or that appointment right now or in this post.  But let's just say it was only our second meeting (you might recall that my beloved headache doctor from before suddenly left).  On the first meeting, I got the impression that this new doc and I would get along just fine and understand each other and whatever, that he could help me, most importantly.  But this time, I got the direct opposite impression.  It was a horrible appointment, then a horrible day, and until today, the week was horrible.  


But it's today, and when I woke to Today, I found it felt shiny and new, if not completely filled with hope and lightness.  I also woke on my couch, having lain down there last night to watch TV, thinking angrily of how not-sleepy I was.  That's the last I remember!  Yesterday's awfulness consisted mainly of a horrible fight with someone close to me and drama and stress and the feeling, after it all, that I have no power and no say and no ability to create my own life anymore.  Very low, a deeply low place to be.  So I felt awake and angry, and I was crying, and that's when I guess I fell asleep with the light on and the TV on and my clothes still on.  


The thing is, I woke up to find my kitty cat curled at my feet.  I don't know when he came, but he was there, guarding me, as I call it.  Let me tell you about Dorian:  the guy does NOT sleep without a blanket and/or a pillow and/or a comfy cardboard box to call his bed.  He doesn't usually enjoy sleeping on or beside humans either, finding us too warm and fidgety for his liking.  I love the rare occasion that he lies on top of my comforter, on top of me, so much, that I try to lie completely still when he does it.  But inevitably, I curl my toes or sneeze, and he's outta there!


So on the occasions when he comes to guard me, I know it's not an accident or a whim.  You see, the fight and drama and crying of yesterday all took place at our home, in my apartment.  I was very upset, it all led to a terrible migraine, there was someone that my cat trusts slamming a door at one point ... BAD.  In whatever mysterious way that animals have of KNOWING, and even stranger to my mind, CARING to do something about what they KNOW ... my sweet little boy-cat knew I needed comfort.  


So it came to pass that I cried myself to sleep and sometime in the night, Dorian decided to fore-go his creature comforts and sleeping preferences in order to come and stay with me.  Isn't it funny how sometimes our pets know and are able to do what we truly need, the simplest but most necessary things?  My heart just about burst when I opened my eyes and saw him there, blinking calmly at me.  He didn't run away like, whew, she's up and my work is done.  Rather, he crawled up closer, gave my eyebrows and bangs a good "bath," and sort of just snuggled next to me until I announced that it was time for Coffee-N-Kibbles, which is pretty much always the first order of the day.  


I have much to learn in life, about life, and most of the time the learning excites me.  But one thing I have begun to learn is that I value and find the most joy in what our world calls the "simple" and even "mundane" things in daily life.  One of the great joys in my life currently is this amazing cat.  I don't know how or why, but he sure seems to have an "old soul."  He knows things, he teaches me things, and he's sensitive and loyal, traits that are not especially cat-like.  I wrote a little essay today in my journal about sharing life with a pet, and about this particular pet.  I am going to think about where to send or publish it.  


I tell people these stories sometimes and I know (sometimes they even say it) that they are thinking that either I'm exaggerating and giving personal traits to Dori ... and / or that I am becoming a "crazy cat lady" soon to be an old maid (such a modern and flattering term), shunning human beings and hygiene and, well, real life, for my 92 cats.  But I am not ashamed of adoring my cat as much as a human family member; I certainly recognize that he is not, in fact, my baby or whatever.  I want him to be, and I appreciate that he is, a cat, a pet.  But I love him as such.  And we have a bond, a relationship.  


So today, after such an awful week of fighting and crying and illness and drama, I woke up to beauty and grace and a reminder of the amazing gifts in my life, one of whom is Mr. Dorian.  I remembered to turn my face and my heart toward the light, toward gratitude and peace.  I am thankful that my ADD has settled again (not sure whether I like this new medicine, but I'm sure that will be another post), because when it's settled I can write and read, two of the most beautiful, favored gifts in my life!  I am thankful for my guitar and the fingers to play it, the mind to learn it, the music, as corny as it might sound, I am thankful for the music.  Speaking of which ...


Dorian seems to be the only creature on Earth that adores --make that, doesn't hate-- hearing me sing.  For whatever reason, he loves my singing and will crawl onto my lap when I sing, purring so loud it sounds like he's growling and gargling!  So this morning, to greet the day, and to greet my guy, and to thank him in some small way, I pet him and sang him some Jim Croce songs and a couple James Taylor favorites.  Isn't that funny?  He digs it.  He doesn't like it if I start rapping or, like, adding dance steps.  He just wants me to sing, all mellow.  What a pair, we two.