I was watching my cat this morning as she attempted to weave in and out of the bookcase that I have in my bedroom. She was trying to be so “catlike” in her movements. You know, well-balanced, graceful and dignified. So I laughed my butt off when she fell off the shelf. Because she’s a big, fat, clumsy cat. You may remember me telling the story about how I found her. If not, here’s the Reader’s Digest version:
I was still working at the storage facility back in October of last year. It was one of those nasty, rainy days. I didn’t even want to go out and do my lock checks on the storage units (to check and see if anyone had moved out etc.) But I did anyway, because I’m the worlds Greatest (translate to dumbest) Employee in the world. I thought I’d heard something that sounded like a kitten, but I disregarded it. Then when I was taking some trash out to the dumpster, I heard it again, so I looked around for it. Our facility was pretty close to the road and if there was an animal out there, I didn’t want it to get run over. Sure enough, there was a tiny little kitten under one of our U-Haul trucks. But she wouldn’t let me near her. She would just cry and run away. She looked like a drowned rat in all the rain, and I was starting to as well. Anyhow, it took all day, but I finally managed to get my hands on her by coaxing her with some cat food that I had bought from the convenience store that was next to our building. A customer came in the office in the meantime and said that he had seen the kitten WAY in the back of the property the day before. Somehow she had made it all the way to the front of the property to the office area. The customers there were great. And they were used to me having all kinds of animals in there. So I took her home. I didn’t want to, because we already had the big yellow cat, Mr. Luxurious. AND I had just been nursing back to health that big female bulldog named Pebbles. My husband was on the road at the time, and I had enough to take care of with Pebbles, Mr. L, Casey, and Bandit. But could I say no to the kitten? Uh…nope.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep her because even though I kept her in the laundry room, Peebles would sit by the door ALL DAY. he wanted to mother that kitten so bad.
I finally begged and pleaded with my friend Robbin to take the kitten. She did, and since she treats all (6 or 7) of her cats so well, I knew she’d get a good home.
Fast forward to when I moved out here to the 55+ park that I’m in now. I knew we couldn’t bring Mr. L with us. He’s strictly an outside cat, and the park only allows inside cats. Robbin had found another disabled kitten herself, and the one that I had given her, whom they had named Tara was totally terrorizing the new kitten. So we did a cat swap. I took Tara back and she took Mr. L. And it’s worked out great.
Now to what I really wanted to talk about today.
So, Tara has been spayed. And she’s part Maine Coon, which makes her a pretty big cat. After the neutering, she has one of those areas on her belly that kinda hangs down. So even though she’s just over 14 months old, and I feed her real well, she’s a chub. Just the kind of cat that I like: black, fat, lazy and totally MY cat. She tolerates my husband, but she jumps in my lap, and lays with me and “grooms” me. She’s beautiful really.
But here is what got me thinking today. Tara trying to act all “cat-like” and stealthy reminded me of some of the women that I’ve known in my life. They try to act so hot and sexy. Even when they are pretty much “past their expiration date”. They still flirt around and try to be the queen bee of every social occasion. They want everyone to notice them, and cater to them. And they lack the looks and/or personality that makes it fun to be around them anymore.
As I’ve gotten older myself, there have been times when I just HATE getting older. And then there are times when I am really glad that I am trying to age gracefully. There was a time, when I could have been a spotlight seeking, wanting to be the center of attention type, but that was never me. I’m a pretty private person. Too much so sometimes. But when I choose to be social, I want everyone to have a good time. And I enjoy being funny, and fun to be around. Maybe too much sometimes that way too. I don’t know. But I can honestly say that I was never one that craved attention. That if everyone didn’t fawn over me, or pay homage to me for just being there I’d get upset. But I know women that are like that. And I can only imagine that aging is pretty scary for them. It’s sad really.
I look in the mirror, and some days I really don’t like what I see. A part of me longs for those days gone by when I could be catlike and sexy and hot. Other days, it doesn’t matter so much. But hey…..at least you won’t see me fall off the bookcase like Tara did !