Hannah recently sent me the above image. How heartwarming it is just to look upon a kitten sleeping. Why is that, I wonder? Still, who cares!? That it is is enough.
Today I just got back from a counselling session with CGL, which stands for Change, Grow, Live. I’ve been seeing a guy called Mark there most weeks, Thursday mornings.
CGL specialise in supporting with people dealing with various addictions. I’m not going to go into the gory details of my own struggles publicly. And to the extent I do go into it, at all, I’ll try to keep it light and general (as opposed to heavy and specific!).
Today was a minor milestone of abstinence, and self-control. So a good day, really, I suppose. But my spirits are not feeling it yet. I’m as miserable – indeed more so, at times – as when I was deepest into any of my several addictive vices.
I’m hoping that better feelings will follow, and grow stronger. We shall see, I guess.
Anyway, after my session ‘in therapy’, I popped to Boyes, a down-market department store in March. I needed a belt, as my trews were literally fallun’ doon! I got a ein nice leder one for £10. Whilst there I also bought a light summer jacket, for £30.
The latter purchase made me feel both happy, but also complicated, and even a bit sh*tty (read guilty), as I’m stone cold broke. Mind, a single shift for Amazon Flex (once I have wheels again) will pay for it. So I’m not that bothered.
When I finally got home from CGL and the unplanned minor shopping spree, Chester greeted me with loudly plaintive meowing. He needs feeding.
But rather than that occasional ‘cupboard love‘, which sees the satiated moggy disappearing off through the cat flap, he frequently – and that includes today – follows up feeding with a clear request for companionship. Which is utterly adorable.
So as he waited expectantly at my feet, I scooped him up and we had a completely wonderful 15 or 20 minutes of cuddles, purring, head-rubbing/bumping, and all round good vibes. Chester, I love you!
After about 10 minutes of this bliss, he decided he needed to have a bit of a groom. So he starts washing himself, still in situ, ‘pon my chest. And ‘pon my word, if watching him ablute didn’t crack my face with a huge grin.
So I took a few pics of our boy, on my chest, living up to his name, and making me grin like the idiot I am. Another fab five minutes passed. And he finally decided that was enough; time to transfer himself to the more stable (in every conceivable sense!) support of our dining-table.
And now, about an hour later, I’m still sat in the easy-chair. And he’s still softly sleeping beside me. Sometimes his breathing is near enough silent. At others I can follow the rise and fall, the in-takes and out-breaths. And it’s mesmerisingly meditative.
From Pishy, and Domino, in childhood, to Tigger, and now Chester, in adult life, the cutely curmudgeonly company of cats has been a more or less constant part of ‘being’ for me (save only the barren interlude of college and after). And what a beautiful part.
Benedictions ‘pon ye furry critters, say I!
❤️ 🐾 🐈⬛ ❤️
Some time later…
Further furry fun: Chester is oscillating between cute lap-cat and frightening ball of teeth ‘n’ claws! I got a few pics of him in the former of the two modes just now, just before eating dinner in the evening sunshine, dans le jardin.
In the above photo, if you look carefully, you’ll see that his right fore-paw is actually gripping the first finger of my left hand (quite tightly!).