Cats

 My cats are weird.

(I think all cats might be weird.)

And they have such different personalities.

 

Annie Mae is spicy and aloof.

Sigma Ray is docile and loving.

 

Annie Mae will only eat turkey directly from my hand.

Sigma Ray will only eat turkey off the floor.

 

Annie Mae will only drink water from her personalized water bowl upstairs.

Sigma Ray will drink water from anywhere, including my dad’s cups.

 

Annie Mae will only eat cat food if it’s been freshly poured into her bowl.

Sigma Ray will eat cat food anytime it’s available.

 

Annie Mae refuses to let you touch her pretty, fluffy belly.

Sigma Ray doesn’t care if you touch his belly, his nose, or his tail.

 

Annie Mae stirs if you come upon her sleeping.

Sigma Ray sleeps hard and long and just keeps right on sleeping if you come upon him.

 

Annie Mae likes boxes.

Sigma Ray doesn’t know what to do with them.

 

Annie Mae likes to hunt.

Sigma Ray is a lover, not a fighter.

 

Annie Mae is calm and content with the ground.

Sigma Ray is spastic and curious and climbs all over everything.

 

Annie Mae knows her name.

Sigma Ray does not.

 

Annie Mae will sometimes respond when I say “comeeer, baby.”

Sigma Ray just looks at me like I have a hole in my head.

 

Annie Mae is a secret purrer.

Sigma Ray purrs very loudly and makes no secret about when he’s happy. 

 

Annie Mae has sort of figured out my schedule.

Sigma Ray has not.

 

Every day, when I come home from work,

Annie expects me to come upstairs

So she can sit beside me

While I do my blackout poem.

If I don’t immediately do this,

Then it throws her off, and

She acts out of sorts until I do.

I think this is funny.

But it warms my heart.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

My cats are weird.

And I bet yours are too.

Or your dogs.

Or your bearded dragons.

Or your hamsters or ferrets or snakes or cows or any other pets that you have.

 

Pets are some of life’s greatest blessings.

Amen?

And amen.