I heard the crash before I opened my eyes. Chances were good that Giese, our younger cat, was on my husbandâ€™s dresserâ€”againâ€”and had knocked over any of the following:
- a picture frame
- his coin cup
- his vitamin stash
Was it worth waking up to know what I probably already knew? Cleaning up after her clumsy, albeit funny, foibles have become part of my day. Ah well. Curiosity got the better of me and I glanced toward the sound.
Sure enough, Giese had taken out a row of vitamin bottles with her tail. Was she upset? Nuh uh. She saw the collateral damage on the floor, splattered and spinning like little gelatin-incased jewels. Giese, nonplussed, then walked towards the bed.
Placing her front paws cautiously on the comforter she stretched over the alarm clock/ radio until she lost her balance. Giese is a full-figured cat. Her soft tummy girth momentarily encased the clock and eclipsed the digital glow. As she scrambled for footing I was sure more than her feet were going to hit the floor. I was wrong. A very ugly â€œplopâ€ later she was on the bed and nose to nose with me. Thanks to the cord, the clock remained on the dresser. Barely.
We adore Giese Alvina Gates. Sheâ€™s a combination of innocence, comedienne, and cuteness. She eats as though every meal is her last. She refuses to be bullied by our other cat, Pudgy, and puts up with my husband rumpling her fur as she sleeps. But. (Notice it is a big but.) She is, by far, the most accident-prone cat Iâ€™ve ever known.
This past month she has broken an antique oil lamp, dumped a vase of flowersâ€¦which in turn soaked the coffee table and carpet, and fallen off the couch while sleeping (apparently she doesnâ€™t know she can turn over one too many times).
She has chewed power cords, dug in my houseplants, and herked up the food she gluttonously downed.
Because sheâ€™s a calico, she has a fondness for any and all of my black clothes. Even the most gentle of Giese-to-material rubs leaves a solid white smear of fur, irremovable by any known devices of humankind.
She comes running like a baseball player heading for home plate when she sees me mopping the floor. A loooooong slide later brings her to a soggy stop. â€œHey!â€ I say, and she tries to run away but canâ€™t get any traction. I sigh and wait and then redo the mopping.
Why am I writing about this? Because with all the mess and chaos she brings, I am a better person. I have reason to laugh and love and write. How good is that?
I read somewhere that a catâ€™s energy flows in the opposite direction of humans. Therefore when they sit in our lap and we stroke them, the cat-to-human energy balances. I donâ€™t know about that, but I do know I feel at peace when sheâ€™s nearby. At least until I have to clean up the next mess. (Sorry, hubby, if I didnâ€™t get the vitamins in the right bottles!) Miss Giese? She is the best part of my day.