Cattitude

I'm owned by two Siamese cats. They are numbers 10 and 11 in the list of cats that have owned me. Minki is a male Seal Point and Lily is a female Seal Point Snowshoe Siamese. I've often said that if I believed in reincarnation, I'd like to come back as one of my own pampered house cats.

Their life consists of a 24/7 buffet and rest rooms that get cleaned twice a day. Two window seats, especially placed to get optimum sun, allow them to catch the rays while stretched out in comfort. Cat naps extend to roughly 16 hours a day. And when all other luxurious resting places grow boring, all paths lead to a warm lap to settle into.

It's even more enjoyable to soak up the heat from the laptop when Mom walks away for a few minutes, or to sit upright in her lap when she's trying to type so that she can't see the screen.

But is there anything more peaceful than a sleeping cat? There's not a tense atom in their bodies--unless you count the ears which seemingly swivel 360 degrees to make sure no cans are being opened surreptitiously. Tails wrapped around the entire circumference of their forms, they doze in heavenly peace, interrupted only by the occasional twitch of a dream mouse being chased.

And speaking of mice, I had an infestation of the critters last winter that went on for months. My cats have numerous stuffed animal mice which they chase and throw in the air, carry around in their mouths while wailing like air raid sirens, and generally beat the stuffings out of them till they're virtually unrecognizable. But faced with the real thing--and one evening two of the rodents marched into the living room and took up stations under my arm chair--the cats appeared to view them as drop in guests and went upstairs to catch another forty winks, as they do when human guests come. I finally had to call the exterminator to reclaim my home from the siege.

Would I change any of this? Not. Matthew Fox once said that his dog was his spiritual director, and I feel similarly about my cats. They teach me to relax. They make me smile with their whimsical ways. They give me unquestioning affection (though I sometimes suspect that the real attraction is the afghan over my lap rather than myself). They give me companionship and loyalty. They remind me that we all come from the same Creator.

And all they ask in return is a 24/7 buffet, sunny window seats, lots of sack time, a willing lap and some stuffed toys to demolish. Little enough to pay for what I get in return.