And every day, I find myself thinking, “Why is Lola being such a pain?”
And every day, after about 20 minutes of this, I realize that she’s hungry. And I haul my ass off my yoga ball and put some food in her dish. And peace is restored.
I don’t know why I don’t clue in earlier. We’ve had this cat for, oh, nine years. And still, this one lesson doesn’t seem to permeate. Kind of like how, at the same time each month, I wonder why everything suddenly seems visible only through grouch-coloured glasses, or why I’m weepy for no particular reason
Or how I can catch myself despairing at a four-year-old boy who is forcing me to acknowledge his presence by making a nuisance of himself, who is insisting that Everything I Do Is Wrong. And then I actually think for a minute, and, without saying anything, I hand him a banana or a plate of cheese and crackers or a glass of milk. Which he silently ingests. And peace is restored.
(Cat bowl by Toronto designer Wendy Tancock)