Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
135 lbs of doggie attitude vs. 8 lbs of pure unadulterated cat rage. No contest.
Freckles the cat hid the first two years after the black trio invaded the house.
Methinks she was horrified that not only did we bring two dogs in, but a feisty black kitten as well.
She became like a ghost cat. We'd maybe catch a glimpse or hear the pitter-patter of her little kitty paws, then we'd turn and there would be nothing there at all. She'd come out for affection when she couldn't stand her self-imposed isolation one more second. But usually, it was only when the dogs were on the lower level of the house.
But one day it changed. She must have had one of those "I'm mad as heck and not going to take it anymore moments." Because, all of a sudden, a hissing, spitting, yeouwling hair ball shot out from underneath a bed and she schooled those girls but good.
Now. The girls give her WIDE berth and mucho space and seem to always be checking over their shoulders, wondering if the scary kitty might be hiding, just waiting for a misstep.