Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Bugsy Made Me Do It
Every night for the last few weeks, he trots in and snarfs his treats. (Yes, I do know that these are the real reason he minds.) Then flops down on the floor, next to the chair where I commune with my laptop, and cleans himself. He's OCD like that. Must lick something on his body at least a thousand times a day.
When he's done licking, he sits on his haunches and meows. Tiny little 'let me out' mews. I tell him no and keep clacking, ignoring him. The mews crowd together, almost rapid-fire, and become full-on meows. I look at him and shake my head and tell him firmly, with attitude, "No!"
"Yeah right," he yeowls, intent on manifesting an open door, not quite understanding why this works the rest of the time, then all of a sudden it doesn't.
I call him over and he sidles up to my hand and pets it.
It was then that I heard him.
"Play with me." His eyes said it. His body said it.
It's oozing out of him, loud and clear, "Stop pecking on that thing for five minutes and play with me."
So I did. We played 'slap the mouse around' first. Then 'bat the string'. For twenty minutes he was the center of my Universe. We played. I took off my writing cap for twenty minutes and made my comrade, and me, happy.
I bought it to remind me to play. For my sake and my muse's. Now my cat's getting in on the act.
Do you stop to play? Do you have someone to remind you? What does your playtime look like?
"You can discover more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation." ~ Plato