Simba. Simba is one of my faithful companions. And when I say faithful I truly mean faithful. Through thick and thin - this mugger has been there. He'll be 15 in January. I have had him for 14 years. Hard to believe how time has flown. He doesn't act his age, but neither do I; we have that in common.
He's a peculiar cat. And by peculiar I mean uncommon, unusual; distinctive in nature or character from others. He is uncannily tuned into me. He has been known to wake me up in time for a 6:00 am conference call, when I have forgotten to set my alarm. A couple of weeks ago I was cold going to bed. Curled on my right side, I started reading. Simba promptly came and laid on my hip for awhile and I started to warm up. Then he laid on my knees for awhile and as I thought to myself my feet are cold, my little mug went and made himself comfortable on my feet and ankles. Uncanny. I sent him a silent thank you and he took off to eat his dry food.
He 'tucks me in' and when I stop stirring he leaves. I can hear the plink, plink of the kibble as he pulls it out of his stainless steel bowl, and eats, then he comes back to sleep on my bed usually at the bottom. He is not an under the covers kind of feline, unless we are traveling; that is a story for another time.
Anyway, I have been avoiding venturing out on this black Friday weekend. On Sunday night I realized I only had two cans of Fancy Feast left. I made a mental note to go to Kroger's on Monday to stock up on Simba's favorites - Fancy Feast classic, don't be bringing that grilled or sauced or cheesed stuff in the house - it won't get eaten.
Monday rolled around and I started in on my coding exercises. I didn't go to the grocery store. I went to feed the animals dinner and explained to my little (sim)baloney boy - it was going to have to be tuna. It was my last can. I only eat white albacore tuna. I have bought light tuna before and found spots of color that I unfortunately have associated with fish eyeballs. Somewhere in my imagination - it went that way. White albacore. I pay more for my quirky imagination. I hope I haven't ruined light tuna for you...
Dinner was a success. Tuna juice squeezed over George's! dry food, suspiciously colored bits in his bowl as well. Same with Simba but he gets more since it's his dinner. The rest goes into Tupperware and into the fridge. I used the last of my bread and turkey to make a sandwich, happy campers all around.
Tuesday, he woke me up for breakfast. Not too early, 8:30 is reasonable, but this little 15 lbs. of fur is persistent. Don't go asking for another 10 minutes. Tap, tap tap on my cheek, licking my eyelids, my forehead, the tip of my nose. Tap, tap, tap on my arm... sigh. George! doesn't wake me up at all. He waits for me to have coffee, the joins me for a morning walk. He doesn't jump into the day with four paws, he gently stretches into it; we have that in common.
Tuesday morning's breakfast started with an apology and promise that would be broken. Tuna again buddy. I will go to the store today.
Well, again I was on the computer all day so the grocery store run didn't happen and dinner was met with a flick of his tail and jump off the table. Yes, he has his own table. I tried to sweeten the pot with hot water to make it juicier and a couple bits of cheese. Cheddar my friends, not Swiss, because Swiss will not be eaten by his highness. He ate the cheese, he ignored the tuna, white albacore tuna, the best money can buy.
So I know on this day, today, that he is going to be even more picky, but to soothe my soul, I went through the process of putting it in his bowl. He didn't even bother to check it out. Instead he ran around like his tail was on fire. I started brewing my coffee, took George! out for a pee break, then, came in, poured myself a beautiful cup of joe and sat down to review my health insurance packet.
Today was the last day of open enrollment and I needed to make a change since I am now paying the full fare with Cobra.
Now I am not a total slacker, last night I sat down and reviewed it a bit. Then left the stack of papers on my hassock, cover letter page that had all the prices on it on top of the pile. It was to be the first thing I tackled today.
I pick up the packet and the cover page is missing. I distinctly remember, I think, leaving the cover letter on top, but it isn't there. I page through every single sheet of paper. It isn't there. I look around the floor, it isn't there. I look on my desk, it isn't there. I look on my bed, in the bathroom on my dresser, just in case I had inadvertently carried it there on my way to bed, not there. I am beginning to melt down completely. Tears and all. I have lost my marbles. Somewhere in this wee little house I have lost what I had come to believe was the most important piece of paper I have ever needed.
I looked through all the pages of the packet again, on the sofa, on the desk, under the bed covers knowing darned well it was with the other sheets of paper. I got out my flashlight and looked under the bed, I looked in my bookshelf, on the cat tree, in the trash. I looked in the oven, in the freezer, in the refrigerator because at this point I am thinking I am out of my gourd, or had to be sleep walking or those aliens from the other night had walked in and taken that one single piece of paper...
I sat down and gave up in total desperation, thinking everything happens for a reason. I am meant to have the big insurance bill, I pray I won't have a catastrophic illness, and give up with a deep sigh.
At that very moment, Simba got up from where he was sleeping in front of the hassock and walked off into the kitchen. There it was. My one sheet of paper that he had completely covered with his 15 lbs. of fluff. The whole time I had been rummaging through my house, he was laying in that one spot on that one piece of paper. How only one piece and not the full stack got on the floor is beyond me. He did not move a whisker in my panic.
As I leaned over to pick it up, I looked into the kitchen and there he was, sitting in stately profile in front of his chair which helps him get onto the table to get to his food. He was looking up serenely at his food bowl.
I went to the grocery store today to get Fancy Feast classic.
A person needs to have their priorities correct. Promises to peculiar cats should never be broken. Lesson taught, lesson learned...
Laura
ps. iloveu
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