Perception

I don’t think of myself as a loner. I do think of myself as someone who prefers to be alone. Given options, I’ll stay home by myself most of the time. I’ve said that as long as I’m alone 80% of the time, I’m happy to be social the rest of the time. And I feel as though, at this point in my life, I’m more social than I’ve ever been. (Having a much better chemical balance has a *lot* to do with that.)

However. My cat is at the vet today, for the whole day, getting her teeth cleaned. As well as a getting a microchip implanted.

I knew I would miss her. She’s always here when I’m here. I didn’t realize just how much I interact with her, and she with me. This place feels empty without her.

I complain about her sometimes, how she interrupts me when I’m working or writing. Sometimes I welcome the interruptions. I think, after today, I will welcome them even more.

And no, I don’t want to contemplate what I’m going to do when I lose her. She is going to live for a long, long, long time.

How about you? Do you have a four-legged companion who brightens your day?

Comments (22)

  1. You might remember a very beloved black-and-white companion that and I lost almost three years ago. I still miss her being in my way all the time. We do have a very cuddly black companion who recently cost a fortune in dental work, but I’m very happy to have her with us.

  2. Alas, no animal companions here. Between the two of us, we’re allergic to anything we might want to have. (Me to cats, drastically; to dogs, a little less; she to rats.)

    But I can well understand how much such a companion becomes a part of one’s heart.

  3. I’ve had Snickers brightening my life since late December of ’96, she’s now 14. Having furry headbumps and fluff-bys is one of the high points of my day, and as it’s getting colder, she’s willing to go under the covers for a few minutes and spoon with me. I’ll put up with the bops on the nose/furry alarm clock mode for this.

    • Kiera has found that the best way to wake me up is to press her very cold, very wet nose to mine. She also likes to clean my hands, sometimes my arms, very thoroughly, purring the whole time. She doesn’t get under the covers. She does either lay on top of me, on one thigh or the other, or she curls up right by my hip. Sometimes she insists, though, on being held — one arm all along her back, the other all along her belly.

      Yeah. I miss her.

  4. It’s completely nuts how much of a hole a dog or cat leaves when they’re out of the house. With a cat or a dog, you’re never alone, even when you’re by yourself. And when they’re not there, the emptiness reverberates.

    Hubby’s finally got the cuddler he always wanted, and, like you, his “alone time” in no way requires his dog to be absent for him to relax. Which is actually kind of interesting … I wonder how it’s different.

  5. I know just how you feel. Nicky is at the vet’s today — and overnight. He has a urinary problem. Luckily, the kidneys aren’t involved, the vet says, but he te4nds to get crystals forming in his (very small) urethra.

  6. Oh yes, Shadow has been the Best Cat Ever for me. She comes to the window when she hears my car and meows at me to come inside. She wants to curl up on my lap on the rare times that I sit still in the house. She comes in and lays on my chest and purrs when I go to bed, then sleeps by my knees. Having her be happy to see me has gotten me through the last four years of living by myself.

  7. Um, yes….. seven. There have been times when I’ve been trying to work at my computer, and it’s getting close (in their minds) to dinner time, and I literally have five of them within arm’s length: two of top of my computer desk, one of top of the printer, one on my lap, and one on the chair next to mine.

    Even back when we had a sane number of cats (two), I was astounded at how much more it suddenly felt like we had a “home” insetead of an apartment or a house.

  8. You might remember a very beloved black-and-white companion that and I lost almost three years ago. I still miss her being in my way all the time. We do have a very cuddly black companion who recently cost a fortune in dental work, but I’m very happy to have her with us.

  9. Alas, no animal companions here. Between the two of us, we’re allergic to anything we might want to have. (Me to cats, drastically; to dogs, a little less; she to rats.)

    But I can well understand how much such a companion becomes a part of one’s heart.

  10. I’ve had Snickers brightening my life since late December of ’96, she’s now 14. Having furry headbumps and fluff-bys is one of the high points of my day, and as it’s getting colder, she’s willing to go under the covers for a few minutes and spoon with me. I’ll put up with the bops on the nose/furry alarm clock mode for this.

    • Kiera has found that the best way to wake me up is to press her very cold, very wet nose to mine. She also likes to clean my hands, sometimes my arms, very thoroughly, purring the whole time. She doesn’t get under the covers. She does either lay on top of me, on one thigh or the other, or she curls up right by my hip. Sometimes she insists, though, on being held — one arm all along her back, the other all along her belly.

      Yeah. I miss her.

  11. It’s completely nuts how much of a hole a dog or cat leaves when they’re out of the house. With a cat or a dog, you’re never alone, even when you’re by yourself. And when they’re not there, the emptiness reverberates.

    Hubby’s finally got the cuddler he always wanted, and, like you, his “alone time” in no way requires his dog to be absent for him to relax. Which is actually kind of interesting … I wonder how it’s different.

  12. I know just how you feel. Nicky is at the vet’s today — and overnight. He has a urinary problem. Luckily, the kidneys aren’t involved, the vet says, but he te4nds to get crystals forming in his (very small) urethra.

  13. Oh yes, Shadow has been the Best Cat Ever for me. She comes to the window when she hears my car and meows at me to come inside. She wants to curl up on my lap on the rare times that I sit still in the house. She comes in and lays on my chest and purrs when I go to bed, then sleeps by my knees. Having her be happy to see me has gotten me through the last four years of living by myself.

  14. Um, yes….. seven. There have been times when I’ve been trying to work at my computer, and it’s getting close (in their minds) to dinner time, and I literally have five of them within arm’s length: two of top of my computer desk, one of top of the printer, one on my lap, and one on the chair next to mine.

    Even back when we had a sane number of cats (two), I was astounded at how much more it suddenly felt like we had a “home” insetead of an apartment or a house.

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