"..and so it goes for much of the pain in your life. Often you need to evolve a bit more
before you can understand a bit more."
_ Karen Salmansohn
Truth Karen, truth.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
And so, we call a truce
I gingerly stepped out of Amanda's room this morning.
In the weeks prior, little Babooshka (as I like to call her) would greet me in the morning purring at my feet. "Cute, what a good kitty." you smile to yourself. Think again.
What would happen shortly afterwards was her attempt to have my toes for her morning snack. Or jump as high as she could to latch onto my leg, digging her claws into my skin. Or better yet, sneak up on me in the kitchen tangling herself around my legs.
"All she needs is a little love!" Nick explained with a hint of annoyance.
"You know you're bigger than her right?" Thanks Ben. I hadn't the slightest idea. -_-
And so, I loved her. Tried anyway. When she would grab at my pinky toe, I would reach down whispering softly and stroked her matted gray fur. She swatted. I put her outside.
And so two or so weeks of this pattern went on. I knew that every morning when I stepped out of Amanda's room there she would be. Waiting.
Until today. Little Babooshka was indeed in front of the door but she was lying down near her litter box. She paid no attention to me as I hastily made my way to work.
Lunch came around and I came home to prepare myself a meal. I went upstairs, waiting for her to jump on my head...nothing.
Back to work.
Work day over and I am now back home and Babooshka is right where I left her this morning. The only evidence of her movement is a puddle of something brown (perhaps the case of an upset stomach???) on the plastic mat near her loo.
Poor Babooshka, feel better soon.
Let's call a truce.
In the weeks prior, little Babooshka (as I like to call her) would greet me in the morning purring at my feet. "Cute, what a good kitty." you smile to yourself. Think again.
What would happen shortly afterwards was her attempt to have my toes for her morning snack. Or jump as high as she could to latch onto my leg, digging her claws into my skin. Or better yet, sneak up on me in the kitchen tangling herself around my legs.
"All she needs is a little love!" Nick explained with a hint of annoyance.
"You know you're bigger than her right?" Thanks Ben. I hadn't the slightest idea. -_-
And so, I loved her. Tried anyway. When she would grab at my pinky toe, I would reach down whispering softly and stroked her matted gray fur. She swatted. I put her outside.
And so two or so weeks of this pattern went on. I knew that every morning when I stepped out of Amanda's room there she would be. Waiting.
Until today. Little Babooshka was indeed in front of the door but she was lying down near her litter box. She paid no attention to me as I hastily made my way to work.
Lunch came around and I came home to prepare myself a meal. I went upstairs, waiting for her to jump on my head...nothing.
Back to work.
Work day over and I am now back home and Babooshka is right where I left her this morning. The only evidence of her movement is a puddle of something brown (perhaps the case of an upset stomach???) on the plastic mat near her loo.
Poor Babooshka, feel better soon.
Let's call a truce.
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