It’s Sunday afternoon, and I find myself waiting by the door again. The large, bald one is on her second weekend trip in a row. I’m starting to get worried that she is trying to do too much. On Friday morning I communicated my concern by fake sleeping on top of her bag all morning. It’s an unspoken rule that she does not ask me to move when I’m asleep. I was sure that my plan was ironclad. Given this information, you can imagine my shock and horror when she actually PICKED ME UP and relocated me to the bed. The pure gall! Nobody picks up Cal the Cat.
I spent the rest of Friday and most of Saturday morning reeling from The Incident. It felt as if our understanding of each other was set back 5 whole years. Finally, around mid-afternoon on Saturday, I started to accept my circumstance. Michele is not perfect and, if I’m being honest, neither am I – sometimes I am the meanest to those that I love the most. I spent the rest of the evening and the following morning in a state of somber self-reflection. It wasn’t the most fun weekend, but it was certainly one of personal growth. Sometimes, if you really love another cat, you have to let them be who they are.
Earlier today, I did a full sweep of the camper to ensure it’s bug-free for Michele’s return. As I write these words, I dutifully wait by the door.