So, yeah- it's just after 4 a.m. I just got awoken in the oddest way, which was by a combination of a thunking noise, hissing, the motion sensor light on the garage turning on, and something moving outside my window. Apparently a stray cat thought it would be a great idea to jump up onto the screen/sill of my bedroom window; or maybe a stray cat has three-foot-tall legs and happened to be going for an early stroll. At any rate, my two suddenly defensive felines stood braced against the glass, hissing for all they were worth. As I sat up, the outside cat ran away.
I've never heard Boomer hiss before. I felt so... championed. Olive is still sitting against the glass, rumbling in near-silent sentry.
It reminded me of the time when Lindsay was gone, and I let Bella sleep with me in Jacksonville (something she never would have approved of, but I loved). The powerfully-built pitbull mix leapt off my bed in the middle of the night, snarling and barking as she ran out to the front door. My heart leapt like an out-of-control freight train. After a moment, I called her back, and her large square head laid down on my heart when she clambered back up with me on still-shaking, wound-up legs.
Nothing has ever warmed the cockles of my cold, cold heart more.
Now, the cats just probably want to fight and hiss because they like fighting and hissing. But I'm choosing to believe they were defending their mama because they would lay down their lives for me. Allow me to continue in my delusion.
I talked to Joe and Faith over the weekend separately, but the same subject arose with both. As I look forward to all this medical crap- consultations, MRIs (which I'm curious about but not really looking forward to, per-se), surgery, recovery and whatnot, it's the first time this year I wish I wasn't single. I've been enjoying my singularity this year, truly-- stretching into my self, this life, this adult skin and moreover trusting myself to do the right thing with me. Not to cut God out of it, but I think you have to let yourself go a little, and know you're going to be ok. At least, that's what I've been working on.
Their responses, and the same responses I've gotten from Brian, Ellen, Katie, Steven, Tracey, even Princess and the Skipper, is whatever I need, they'll help out. Tracey sat next to me during the ultrasound. Katie wants to be there for the surgery. Ellen and Faith want to nursemaid. Tim wants to keep me company while I recover. Mom's planning on flying out. Brian has promised to drop everything, even if I so much as just want to talk. Honestly, I feel like I have a whole group of cats hissing at the window, and the generosity and quickness of it all is near-overwhelming.
In the midst of even crappy times, I have to just shake my head at how damn blessed I am. New friends and old friends line up, rank and file, and blow my mind. I can feel your square head against my heart, guys. It feels wonderful.