On this particular morning our inside female cat dubiously named Charlie Bob is sitting at the glass storm door hissing at another neighborhood cat that has obviously come to taunt her. Mild mannered Charlie who can usually put up with Tyler carrying her around by the scruff of her neck is fraught with dismay over this new nuisance. As I watch Charlie Bob jumping from window to door to get a better perspective of this situation I chuckle with amusement as I have never seen so much activity in Charlie. Our little gray tabby feline is all over the place; jumping up onto a buffet table, slithering around china pieces and managing to prance on a window ledge no wider than a ruler all the while mangling my lace doilies and my sheer curtains between her silent, padded paws.
The outside cat is just crying in crescendo for Charlie to come out and…play? My first instinct is to set Charlie free after all she is spayed. But, I notice that Charlie is really agitated not to mention that as a rescued kitten, she no longer has her claws which to a cat are essential to overcoming and defending outdoor territory. Charlie must realize this also as she paces inside the door hissing and fluffing her fur so she looks like the queen of her indoor jungle ready to pounce outside if she really had to.
When I actually watch the situation unfold I see that beyond her fired up exterior she has a look of fear in her golden-green cat eyes that I immediately recognize. She is fearful of this situation, but yet wanting to engage whatever the cost…it is almost as if she has been reminded of life she was born to have but yet instead of circumstances beyond her control has been subjected to a life of tiptoeing around delicate, unnatural, foreign surroundings.
It’s not that Charlie doesn’t have a good life. For a cat she is affectionate and needy to the point of irritation especially with our guests. She sleeps dreamily on overstuffed pillows and spends the majority of her day grooming and admiring herself. Not a bad gig for a cat, if you can get it. It isn’t until now that I see her that I wonder if even she, Charlie Bob the cat, wishes for something more.
We as humans I believe are designed to belong to be part of a group. We need to feel wanted, accepted and loved unconditionally. As humans when these needs are not or cannot be met, we still persevere and we continue to survive, but I wonder at what cost?
Jack has been working evenings…I thought that this might be a welcome opportunity for us to share some time together since the boys were now back in school and my classes wouldn’t start until the end of September. However, I find Jack telling me he needs to go into work early or he needs to go here or there.
Yesterday after an early morning appointment we both attended concerning Tyler I suggested breakfast for the both of us; however, he had already made up his mind to cut the grass. I understand this exchange between men and women because men are fixers and women are…idealists. We want it done, but not if we have to sacrifice something to get it done. In other words, do this when I am out having a spa day.
I contemplated his reply and thought for a moment of our situation. Yes, having a nicely maintained yard would make me happy, as ours has been growing like the wild for the past 8 weeks…but on the other hand I craved adult company. I pretended in my mind’s eye that we were already engaged in conversation at the local diner and in my head I saw us talking but not really listening to each other. In my thoughts I heard us once again return the conversation at hand back to the boys or to the endless list of financial concerns. I quickly recalled and tallied our past attempts at conversing that ended abruptly in digs and jabs and blame.
I quickly felt myself growing uncomfortable in my skin and in my daydreams. Jack must have seen my brain working overtime and sensed that this could quickly lead to an onslaught of emotional sewage bursting from my mouth. He rapidly suggested we chuck the grass and go out to eat. I shook my head as I remembered the imaginary exchange of words between us in my mind, “No, you’re right, the grass needs to be cut and I would ultimately be happy with that.” Even as I said the words aloud I wondered if I accurately hid the real meaning that I wouldn’t ultimately be happy with us trying to engage with each other…
Jack agreed without much argument, and I wondered if I saw a brief relaxation of his facial muscles. Did I read on his face that he was also relieved of any tension that may be brought about by being alone with me longer than a car ride? We rode back to our house in silence. Perhaps I am totally off the mark with what Jack intended, but I guess I will never know, because he did go out to cut the grass and I began to busy myself in the house and in my head.
But like Charlie Bob the cat are we both wishing for more but yet paralyzed with fear that we cannot be like we were once intended to be.
