“The only escape from the miseries of life are music and cats . . . “
“There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats.”
(Note: I have seen this quote worded in these two ways and have been unable to verify which is the correct one. The meaning is the same for me though.)
I love music, but I love cats more.
I was in my mid-30s before I lived with an indoor cat. That first cat was Waddles. I’ve written about her and how she helped with my OCD and led me to live a better and fuller life.
Cats are a refuge indeed from my miseries, small and large.
My husband and I have two cats, Samantha (Sam), a tuxedo cat, and a gray tabby, Chase Bird.
Our cats who have gone over the Rainbow Bridge are Waddles, a black and white half-Persian and Thunder Cat, a fluffy gray boy.
These are just a few ways cats have made me smile, laugh and just feel better:
*One evening several years ago, I returned home from a church meeting to find my husband, Thunder Cat, Waddles and Sam in the den. The four of them were arranged in a semicircle on the sofas and chair. They were all facing the television, staring intently, ignoring me.
And what were they watching? The Westminster dog show.
*Sam doesn’t really meow. She makes a kind of rough chirpy sound, and she lets us have it if she’s hungry and we’re too slow in getting the food into the bowl. Her cry turns into one long sound, until it’s suddenly buried in a pile of Fancy Feast.
*If I’m lucky, when I sit down in a room with Chase, he climbs in my lap, kneads my stomach, then curls up, warm as toast. I scratch his ear and chin and his eyes half-close and (I swear) he seems to smile.
*Sometimes Chase doesn’t like to sit on my lap, but he loves to chew on my sweat pants.
*Not all cats are the same—at all. When it comes to toys, none of our cats have liked balls, except for Sam. She will bat a little ball or a piece of ice like a true soccer or hockey player. Sam also likes tissue paper and boxes.
*Cats move with grace and stealth, a beautiful mix. They can walk so quietly if they want to; you almost have to be trained to hear them. On carpet, Waddles’ paws made a “puff-puff” sound. I loved hearing that in the night, knowing she was on her way to the bed.
*Thunder Cat loved my shoes, especially some old Earth Shoes I had. At night, he would usually stay in the den, which is at the opposite end of the house from the bedroom. Sometimes, in there by himself, he cried his lonely cry. I would get up and take him one of my shoes. He would curl around it and bury his nose in it, content.
*Watching cats bathe is relaxing. They totally focus on what they are doing. They move their paws across their faces so efficiently but so gently.
Just writing this made me feel better!