Cat

I can admit with a high degree of confidence (and, admittedly, a low degree of self-esteem,) that I idolize my cats. They live the good life.

I find myself so enthralled by their world, that I tend to emulate them on Saturdays. Whether by accident or in a creepy attempt to morph into a cat, I notice the pattern of my day can sometimes seem to resemble the daily life of a feline.

Take this afternoon for example.

Sean - that's my husband - left the house to go to basketball practice. Usually, I get a little jealous and a little sad when he leaves. I want to be in a team sport! But I remember that I am surely unsociable and fairly unathletic. Today, however, I was content with his leaving. A migraine was encroaching on my day and I wanted nothing more than to try to sleep it off.

The silence was welcome. Sunbeams cascaded onto the carpet and the coffee table. I nestled into a crevice in the couch and simply lie there.

At the sound of a group of birds making their way through the parking lot outside the living room window, I peaked outside in interest. About five of them perched in a tree tweeting. What were these birds discussing that was so intriguing? I watched from the windowsill until my interest had faded.

Back to the couch. It smelled like fresh laundry. That's what sleep smells like. Clean bedding and warmth. The headache still loomed.

Just then a careless, godless, brainless beast pounded through the parking lot with a basketball in tow. No. To say it was in tow does not imply the reality - the beast was aggressively dribbling the ball on the ground for minutes. The noise emitted directly into my window. It felt like it was in the house. I was quite disturbed. I lunged at the window and watched with an evil eye as this individual just stood there. And dribbled. As noisily as he could. Noticing me, he ceased. I had won.

The couch again. This time, the noises would die down. Just the occasional airplane or rogue crow passing by would pass by.

I passed in and out of sleep. Stirred only by the strangest of dreams, I lie peacefully in my perfectly arranged sleeping spot. I longed for someone to pet me, but was truly content to pass the day this way

Eventually the migraine had been defeated. I woke up and recalled several batshit crazy dreams. I glanced up at Mao - one of my two dictator cats - and felt a strange comradery and a genuine understanding for this black and white beauty.