Several months ago, Shannon and I were in a pawn shop looking for something that we didn’t find. But on the way out the door, a big, big TV caught my eye. It was marked down because it had been there too long. One look, and I fell in love.
I picked it up the next weekend, and soon discovered one of the possible reasons it was on sale: it really needs two grown men to pick it up. Taking it out of the back of the car almost wrecked my back. Once I got it on a dolly and had rolled it into our apartment, I decided that it would stay on the dolly until I had help to pick it up.
I may have testosterone surges that allow me to achieve Herculean feats, but I’m getting older, the testosterone ain’t as strong as it used to be and I’ve learned the hard way when enough is enough.
Enough is enough is always enough. (Eat your heart out, Gertrude Stein.)
Enter Lucy, stage left.
She’s our little red-headed kitty. And she loves the big, big TV. When she’s not harassing Amanda (our little black kitty) or knocking breakable objects onto the concrete floors or begging for food, she loves to hop up on the cabinet where the TV sits. She gets right up in front of it and watches as things dart back and forth. She bats at images on the big, big screen. She occasionally jumps up and tries to get inside the TV to play.
Lucy is a bright spot in our lives right now. We’ve been surrounded by death and illness and misfortune lately. It’s overwhelming sometimes. I just lay in bed and pretend I’m asleep so I don’t have to get up.
But enter Lucy, stage left.
She’ll be chasing a moth or watching TV or just curling up and being cute in a way only cats can be. She loves to curl up in my chair every time I get up. Sometimes I just stand for a while to let her enjoy whatever it is she’s enjoying.
But it’s my chair, so she has to leave, eventually.
She gets a kitty-air lift over edge of the desk and onto the couch. And then she starts sucking up to Shannon.
Red-heads are fickle.
But they're eteranally entertaining.
No comments:
Post a Comment