Jeremiah Was NOT A Bullfrog

I used to have a tree frog that would come in every night and watch me write. He would always announce himself, sit quietly for hours, then he would say "Goodbye!" and slip away. I named him Jeremiah. I told him I truly did realize he wasn't a bullfrog, but the temptation was too great. Evidently, he didn't mind a good, strong name like Jeremiah, because he continued his nightly visits.

Isn't it amazing what wonders writing opens our minds to? As writers, we seem to be a little better at stopping to smell the roses and see the frogs, for it is their story that helps bring ours into being.

*This a response to a Facebook post from C. Hope Clark. 

  

Synchronized Sprawling

Last night was Dancing With the Stars Elimination night so I was glued to the television.

Woody came into my room and burst into laughter ... "Ya'll are laying exactly alike."

I was sprawled across the bed, glued to the TV.  I could feel Maggie at my feet, and every few minutes, I would rub her with my foot, but I hadn't looked at how she was sleeping.

As Woody was laughing, I raised up and glanced at my little Maggie - and sure enough, we were synchronized sprawling!

Sprawling on the bed with Momma

Subtlety is not in her wheelhouse.

As I have written many times before, Maggie has food issues.  She was a street kitty before being trapped at the tender age of 3 months.  Even after a year and a half in her forever home, she worries she won't get her next meal.

When Maggie first came to rule her new forever home, she wasn't bonding with my hubby - so I put him in charge of feeding.  He works nights, and gets in at 5.30 am - so he feeds her breakfast.  Then feeds her dinner on his way out every evening.

Every day, it is a new tactic to get Daddy's attention.  If I'm awake, we always chat a few minutes.  You know, just catching up before he turns in for his rest, and I start my day.   He gets so little sleep as it is - our conversations are usually very short.  But, if Maggie hasn't been fed first, it's always a hoot to see what stunts she will pull to get her message across that "Da Queen is first."

Her favorite is to rub against his legs, then flop on his feet, assuring he's not going anywhere without her knowledge or consent.  When he is preparing her plate of putty heaven, she stands between his legs and bonks his "jewels" with her head, as if to say, "Hurry, or I'll make the next one count."

This morning, I was awake when he came in, and we were having our usual good morning chat.  I was sitting in my bed, and he was standing at the foot of the bed.

Maggie was perturbed that she wasn't getting her food, and we didn't seem to be in a hurry to rush it out to her.  That's when the antics began.  At first we ignored her to see how long it would last.  Then, it got the better of us and we collapsed into gales of giggles.

She would climb up on the very edge of my bed, sit for a minute, then leap to the other side of the bed.  She was sure to leap high, so she would cross our lines of sight.  Then she would simply slip off the side, and go sit at the door.  She waited a moment or two, then seeing we weren't rushing to the big box with all the food, she would cross the room again, climb up on the side of the bed.  Wait semi-patiently, then again launch herself into a high arc across the bed, return to the door - and gaze back at us.

We pretended we didn't see her.  After the fifth time, we couldn't hold the giggles in any more.  We decided it was torture to make her wait any longer, after all, she is the Queen and undisputed ruler of the household.

Food encrusted nose!

This picture was taken when she was much younger, but you can see the evidence of her morning breakfast.  Notice the food encrusted around her pink little nose!

Maggie and the ghost of Stinker past

A post from a friend brought to mind an incident from a few months ago.

I was asleep on the couch, and Maggie was lying on top of me, and I had my arm around her, cradling her to me.  My other arm was cradled as well.

When I awoke, Woody commented on my sleep position, saying I thought I was holding Maggie in both arms.  I told him I was holding Stinkerbelle.  He didn't understand what I was saying ... in my dreams, I held not only Maggie, but I was also cradling my long lost Stinkerbelle Stanley.

After a year and a half, she is still so present with me, every day.  There have been times when I've looked at Maggie across the room, and saw my Stinky sitting there.  I close my eyes for a moment, then look again to see my beautiful little Maggie.

Stinkerbelle waits at the Rainbow Bridge for me.  In the meantime, little Maggie The Cat is here to keep me company, and love me just as Stinker did, will all her little putty heart.  In return, I will love her just as I loved Stinkerbelle Stanley ... with all my heart. 

Stinkerbelle Stanley

Maggie The Cat