So it’s 8:28 and i’m awake for some reason. I’m looking out of the window at the frosted grass, the sky is blue, but this isn’t my time of the day. One of the stranger things that has happened to me since I started writing has to be the strange internal wake-up calls, which I put down to some childlike glee usually associated with waking up at 4am on Christmas day, or possibly the excitement of waking up on the last day of school.
It doesn’t help having our disabled cat sat atop my girlfriend, staring at me, with what I can only assume is a smirk on his face. I’ve never known another cat to have such developed psychological warfare at his fingers, but that could be due to the fact he has no teeth and a fused leg.
He’s a grumbling fusspot, but he has that certain charm you can’t help but appreciate. I think it has something to do with his lack of understanding that he’s not quite like other cats. He is oblivious to his physical shortcomings, and make no apologises for his behaviour, while ensuring that everyone present is aware he’s ready to appreciate a good scratch.
I think there’s a lot to be said about embracing the life in that no exceptions kind of way, which is why I love animals, they don’t seem overly concerned whether you get it or not. Animals (not any cat that i’m aware of anyway) aren’t overly concerned with trying to get you to understand their side, they just do what makes them happy.
I’m not saying that you should sit around licking yourself all day, but if we took that approach and applied it to the things we love, then i’m sure we would get more done. It wouldn’t solve the cat walking over the keyboard scenario, because cats seem to feed off that concentration of energy applied to whatever craft it is you love, but maybe that’s just their way of pointing out what it is you should be doing; your own Herculean ordeal to overcome without being that mad person who has arguments with their pets (which all pet owners do).
I have had the privilege of growing up around some truly mad animals, and I can say without a shadow of a doubt that this cat is probably one of the strangest i’ve ever met. The first night I stayed at my soon to be girlfriends flat on NYE 2015, he spent the entire night gumming the back of my neck to wake me up, which he then proceeded to chat to me about whatever it is cats talk about.
Since, i’ve been everything from a potential rival in his harem of a humans, jumpers, and furry blankets. I’ve been unwillingly involved in some sort of assorted cat BDSM relationship, where he would turn a nice back scratch into a clawed scratch/gumming, which he would pause halfway through with a strange look on his face.
He has made it into a few of my stories, mainly because I kind of like the idea of a pirate having some sort of equal opportunities cat sat on his shoulder, which is increasingly becoming one of his favourite past times (not the piracy bit unfortunately). He’s that loving uncle who can’t hold his pate, so kindly offers to paint the carpet salmon pink.
Pepper’s someone I should probably dislike, but I can’t help but love his outlandish behaviour, and inability to accept that there are cats out there in his garden, which will in all probability beat him up if he goes out there to complain in his crotchety old-man’s style.
Now I have no idea what i’m going to do with my day, and after several hours of intense staring, he’s cuddled-up, and sleeping on my lap. I should be mad, but i’m not, i’ll just write something with him in it. Time for some tea, and possibly a nice little walk, failing that i’m going to doodle in my notebook, and think of a few ideas about a new story i’m working on.
I’ve been reading up on Celtic lore, and there is all manner of strangeness involved that I have never heard before, such as Druid’s Glass. Druids Glass if you don’t know, is a substance formed when two Adders engage in premarital sex, and it’s up to the druid to dash in at the last minute and snatch their love slime. The whole process sounds unnecessary to me, but then again I don’t consider myself a capable druid.
I can’t imagine how that lesson would have gone down in Druidic school. I don’t care how many credits i’d have missed out on, i’m fairly confident in the fact I don’t need to catch my own Druids glass. I’d probably come along and watch someone else do it, but only so I can look for the sniggering professor lurking behind a bush who would giggle “He’s actually going to do it”.
Faith is weird, and I love it for that exact reason, because writing is always more fun when you come across something like this. Logic is wonderful, and has its moments in our lives, but maybe we’re all carrying our own little faith around our necks, like stiff Adder semen for all to see.
I wouldn’t mock someone for expressing themselves, I think it’s important to have a voice, but it just makes you look a little bit silly when you’re making fun of someone else’s ideas, while you stroke your Adder semen stone. It’s all a bit funny, but i think that’s the point of having faith, it’s not really supposed to make sense. Faith is there to encourage you to give to the world, share a little of what you love about it, and maybe encourage a few other people to act just as silly as you are.
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