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Mornings with Olive
May. 27th, 2011 10:05 amI had one of those mornings that you kind of want to preserve in amber. Olive has such a routine with us. At night, she usually snuggles into Jason-- sometimes she sandwiches herself between us both on our pillows-- and settles down to sleep. Come 5:30 or so, she's nudging me for breakfast. I get out of bed, feed her and the other munchkins, then go back to sleep.
J gets up at about 8 to take a shower. She follows him around. He leaves around 8:45 and I usually sleep until 9 or so (this is the upside to self-employment, as I am much more of a night person). Once he leaves, Olive usually curls into me and naps for a little bit. She's a pillow hog, and she likes to steal as much of my pillow as she can, so she can squish her little kitty face right up into mine. When she gets a proper face-to-face squish, she gets this special purr going where it almost sounds like she's cooing.
This morning, right after J left, I was awoken by the sound of her attempting to get in the litterbox. She's in a cone this week after biting her foot pretty good, so it's tricky. I got up to help her, then washed my hands and lay back down. A moment later, I hear the telltale scrabble-thump of her pulling herself up the pet stairs into the bed. She then spent about 20 minutes face-molesting me. Licking my nose, enthusiastically rubbing her face all over mine, purring rapturously. Some mornings, when I desperately need those last few minutes of sleep, I pull the blanket over my head, but this morning, I just let her go, and we cuddled for longer than I should have stayed in bed.
People who meet Olive for the first time tend to "awwww" over her condition. It can be really distressing to see a paralyzed cat. But most people tend to see the scaredy-cat Olive who's not so sure about people who aren't her mom or dad. She runs and hides when the doorbell rings. People don't see the Olive who is a perfectly happy cat, who bullies her 17 lb brother, who will lick you so hard you'll lose a layer of skin. There will never be another kitty like my Olivebean.
(And, as I type this, Nox is demanding to play fetch.)
Onward, onward. Working in the shop today, and then dance rehearsal with the Transcendence ladies.
Last night I had the lovely experience of attending a private party in Silo Point's SkyLounge. Oh my lord, the view! I could see the house I grew up in, the hospital I was born in, my childhood church... every major Baltimore landmark. And the weather was beautiful. Oh, if only I could be rich enough to live there. It's astounding to me, too, how much the area has changed in the last 20 years. When I was young, Locust Point was about the furthest thing you could get to ritzy. Now it's got this whole industrial-chic yuppie vibe happening. So funny to me, when I remember that my brother once got arrested for trespassing when Silo Point was just an old grain elevator.
J gets up at about 8 to take a shower. She follows him around. He leaves around 8:45 and I usually sleep until 9 or so (this is the upside to self-employment, as I am much more of a night person). Once he leaves, Olive usually curls into me and naps for a little bit. She's a pillow hog, and she likes to steal as much of my pillow as she can, so she can squish her little kitty face right up into mine. When she gets a proper face-to-face squish, she gets this special purr going where it almost sounds like she's cooing.
This morning, right after J left, I was awoken by the sound of her attempting to get in the litterbox. She's in a cone this week after biting her foot pretty good, so it's tricky. I got up to help her, then washed my hands and lay back down. A moment later, I hear the telltale scrabble-thump of her pulling herself up the pet stairs into the bed. She then spent about 20 minutes face-molesting me. Licking my nose, enthusiastically rubbing her face all over mine, purring rapturously. Some mornings, when I desperately need those last few minutes of sleep, I pull the blanket over my head, but this morning, I just let her go, and we cuddled for longer than I should have stayed in bed.
People who meet Olive for the first time tend to "awwww" over her condition. It can be really distressing to see a paralyzed cat. But most people tend to see the scaredy-cat Olive who's not so sure about people who aren't her mom or dad. She runs and hides when the doorbell rings. People don't see the Olive who is a perfectly happy cat, who bullies her 17 lb brother, who will lick you so hard you'll lose a layer of skin. There will never be another kitty like my Olivebean.
(And, as I type this, Nox is demanding to play fetch.)
Onward, onward. Working in the shop today, and then dance rehearsal with the Transcendence ladies.
Last night I had the lovely experience of attending a private party in Silo Point's SkyLounge. Oh my lord, the view! I could see the house I grew up in, the hospital I was born in, my childhood church... every major Baltimore landmark. And the weather was beautiful. Oh, if only I could be rich enough to live there. It's astounding to me, too, how much the area has changed in the last 20 years. When I was young, Locust Point was about the furthest thing you could get to ritzy. Now it's got this whole industrial-chic yuppie vibe happening. So funny to me, when I remember that my brother once got arrested for trespassing when Silo Point was just an old grain elevator.
