My Home Care Team

This morning Jackie captured an image of my purr-sonal “home care team” as they ministered to my recent surgical “wounded-ness.”

 

Cats are truly amazing animals. They can sense your wounding, whether it’s physical or mental/emotional.

 

This image shows what my cats are doing any time I get prone since I came home from surgery on Tuesday afternoon.

 

When I’m up and walking, at least one of them is nearby, monitoring me.

 

At night, when I sleep, Patches is either right on my pillow with me, with her paw across my neck or chest, purring and ministering to me.

 

This morning I got up and did my morning walk, 20 times around the back yard, and then I sat back in Jackie’s recliner. Instantly, Patches and Hunter joined me.

 

Charli was also “on duty” in the swing four feet beyond my feet (not in this image), staying clear of bossy Patches but letting me know she was there for me, too.

 

I wish Jackie had taken an image from the head of the recliner so you could have seen the three cats, aligned like the handle of the Little Dipper along my torso and just beyond my feet.

 

It was truly heartwarming.

 

I don’t understand people who don’t like cats. Have they never been around well-loved cats?

 

Cats are great companions. They’re protective, funny, serious and casual, usually exuding a Zen-like composure that relaxes me completely.

 

One time, I accidentally stepped on Archie’s tail (a cat I shared my life with for 14+ years) in my stocking feet. Immediately, his brother Ashley slammed into me with his full body, not biting or clawing, just communicating to me, “Get off Archie’s tail!”  Archie didn’t seem to care that I had stepped on his tail, but Ashley sure did!

 

But Ashley was my fiercest defender whenever I was out in the barnyard with the goats or chickens. If it looked to him like one of the other animals was going to “get” me, he would head him off like a horseman in a rodeo separating calves.

 

Some people think I like animals better than I like people. That’s not far off.

 

I like/love more animals than I do people, for sure.

 

People have hurt me, mentally and emotionally. Animals almost never have–and on the rare occasions when animals have hurt me physically, it was my fault, not theirs.

 

Animals let you know they love and care about you. They don’t have the words, but they do what’s needed to show you they’re on your care team.

 

People rarely verbalize their love or affection, leading me to think it’s non-existent much of the time.  Like everyone else, I’m guilty of the same oversight. We just assume the people we love know we love them, and vice versa.  It still is wonderful to hear it.

 

My love language is a combination of words of affirmation, physical touch, acts of service and quality time. (Last on my list is gift-giving because of my upbringing. I was usually given gifts instead of quality time, which I crave.)

 

Oddly enough, (but perhaps not surprisingly), most people give from their love languages instead of the recipient’s, which can cause a disconnect and make both feel less well-loved than they actually are.

 

Animals just seem to recognize what you need at a given time and respond in that way. They affirm, touch physically, and spend time. Some of them deliver living or dead mice, birds and bunnies to show you they’re on your care team. (Although I love all animals, having them delivered by a pet to my kitchen floor isn’t high on my list of love languages, but I get it.)

 

Cats are on my Top Three List of companion animals. The other two are goats and dogs.

 

I’ve shared my life with all kinds of pets, and I have treasured each and every unique relationship with them.

 

There have been far fewer treasured humans in my life.  I was cogitating that the other evening and I realized that I have only truly trusted about four or five people that I’ve known well (one-on-one) during my lifetime, and none of them are/were nuclear family members.

 

Isn’t that strange?

 

My list of Truly Trusted includes DeForest Kelley, Lisa Twining,  and Ted Crail. There are at least ten others that I Tentatively Trust (or trusted). I’m sure others are trustworthy, but I haven’t known them well enough or long enough to reach the conclusion that I’m 100% safe with them.

 

I suppose that comes from being raised in a family where one of the parents was an alcoholic. When you can’t trust a parent 100%, it’s pretty hard to extend trust as a matter of course the rest of your life.

 

So maybe that’s why companion animals will always SEEM to others to be my “go-to” source of safety and comfort. I can read them; they’re transparent and without guile (most of the time, unless they’re planning some intrigue, like a “mock attack”). I don’t take their off days personally, wondering if I have somehow failed them.

 

They’re just so darned easy to love and trust!