Thursday, August 18, 2011

If I wasn't already a crazy cat lady I definitely am now

This last week I've suffered from a terrible affliction.

The common cold.

One moment you're peaches and cream, rainbows and candyfloss, the next you're struck down all snot and sneezes, aches and agony.

It's like the flu but not quite.  (Mainly because the flu gives you a full week off work, a cold gives you only a day or two).

So there I was feeling very sorry for myself.  The Husband had left me to go make money.  I could barely lift my lead filled head to take a sip from the water bottle.  Let alone heave my beleaguered bones from my bed to refill the hot water bottle.  And then a black and white angel came along.

Mr Alfred Mao. 

He came and cuddled up beside me on the bed.  And for once in his life he didn't meow at me for strokes.  He didn't meow at me to open a door.  He didn't meow at me for more food.  Instead he just hung out.  Not for 10 minutes.  Not for an hour.  But for the whole day.  Lord knows how he didn't pee the bed.  

Never before have I had the privilege of living with a cat who put my own needs in front of theirs.   

Dear Mr Alfred Mao (for the record it's Mao cause that's the sound he makes, he's no relative of the Chairman) you're the best cat ever and you make me proud to be a crazy cat lady.  Bless your little white non-cotton furry socks.