What Cats Sense

Monday, melancholy Monday.

I was in one of those sad moods this morning, mourning actually, something that shouldn't have ended the way it did.

Misunderstandings and missed opportunities often define how our lives progress. Sometimes, it seems when we are just on the verge of a breakthrough, just about to articulate a wondrous truth, some force of the universe enters like a blinding meteor to wipe out our plan, throw us for a loop, leaving us to grasp at the meaning of it all.

As if there were any meaning whatsoever of it all!

Oliver sensed my sadness and also my loneliness. I don't know why, exactly, I went down to sit in the backyard, alone, with my sunglasses on, in case anyone should see me, hiding what would be all too painfully obvious about my condition.

Thankfully, no humans showed up. People only make me cry. But Oliver did. Cats never make me cry, unless they are the long-haired variety. I am allergic to those guys. Oliver, acting on instinct, decided to keep me company for a while, as he took his time navigating around the yard, sniffing each and every recent change as if he were an inspector for the City.

Several times he passed near enough to me that I could touch him, gently rubbing his head and his neck. That is the mammal to mammal contact I desperately needed today. He provided it.

When he finally exited the property, headed south, he turned his head back to look at me one more time, as if to say, "You okay dude?"

I was okay. I was able to talk, shake hands, communicate, do the business I do all the rest of this day, courtesy of this lovely cat.

Thank you, Oliver!

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