Mornings With Pussycat
Each morning, when Pussycat stays with me, we have created ourselves a routine. It is pitch dark. The world is still slumbering, but I am an early riser. I stir in my bed. Pussycat claws at the mattress, as if to say, “Hurry up!” I reluctantly rise from my cozy warm bed. Still half asleep, I sit up and slowly put on my bedroom slippers and dressing gown. As is my habit, I switch the radio. Classical music floats out of that music box. I get a sense of well-being within me. Pussycat is already by the stairs, waiting. I follow him and slowly trundle down the stairs.
In the kitchen I pour myself a cup of tea from the teapot and heat it up in the microwave. I then walk up the steps with Pussycat preceding me. Every once in a while, he turns his head to make sure I’m not too far behind.
Once in the bedroom, I set my tea next to my reclaimed armchair. I sit and arrange a throw on top of me. Pussycat watches me intently, purring loudly in anticipation. When he sees I am settled, he jumps on my lap. Momentarily he affectionately wraps his front paws around my neck, rubs my nose with his, then settles in my lap. I caress his soft fur while I read. I relax and lean back. Soon we both fall asleep.
When I wake up the sky outside my window is slowly getting light. The music from the radio gently drifts into my soul. The sweet animal on my lap slumbers contentedly. I continue to caress him as I watch the winter sky grow lighter still…