I shut my laptop and sat back, sighing.
Freddie perked up from his slumber next to me on the couch and sat up. “Are you finished looking at that?” he asked. “You can pet me now?”
I rolled my head on the headrest so I could look at him. “Of course I can pet you,” I said.
He got up and made his way over to him, his front paws on my thigh. He stared into my face and purred.
“My!” I said, “You are looking for some love, aren’t you?”
He answered with a purr.
I set to work rubbing his fur the way he liked.
You know how this works, but as always, a gentle reminder:
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He purred and enjoyed himself, but those paws on my thigh hurt. “Freddie,” I said. “Freddie, that hurts.”
“Feels pretty good,” he told me, rubbing his head into my hand.
With my free hand, I pushed his paws off me, feeling instant relief.
“Oops, I fell,” he said, climbing right back on.
“Freddie,” I said, moving him again.
He was enjoying himself too much to pay attention to me, and climbed right back up onto my leg. I could feel bruises forming.
“Freddie,” I said again, pushing him off.
He shook himself and looked at me. “I want to be close to you,” he said.
I sighed and reached over to pet him some more. “I know,” I said. “But your paws are so small and your body is so heavy that it hurts when you stand on me.”
He studied me for a moment. “But I want to stand there,” he said slowly.
“You can’t, though, because it hurts me.”
He thought about it. “I don’t think that matters,” he said after a moment.
I picked up my laptop again. “Well there’s no room,” I said, setting it down. I started to open it and remembered why I had closed it. “Shoot!” I said.
He sniffed at the closed computer. “What’s wrong with it?” he asked.
“Nothing’s wrong with the computer,” I explained. “It’s what’s on it that is the problem.”
He sniffed it again. “Smells like it always does,” he announced.
I stroked his soft fur. “Everyone’s fighting,” I said after a moment.
“Why?” he asked. He sat up straighter. “Is there a shortage of tuna?” he asked.
“What?”
“They’re fighting over the tuna? Did you get some? DO WE HAVE SOME TUNA?!”
“Freddie, calm down! It’s not about tuna! Tuna is plentiful!”
He deflated a little. “Then why fight? If there’s plenty of tuna, then there’s nothing to fight about.”
I laughed. “Good point,” I said. “But, no — it’s an important fight. A necessary fight. It’s one we have every few years. But it’s getting ugly and it’s making me worry.”
“The winner gets more tuna?” he asked.
“Why do you keep bring up tuna?” I asked. “There’s no tuna involved.”
He sniffed. “I want some tuna,” he explained.
I frowned at him, trying not to smile. “It’s not dinner time,” I reminded him.
“It could be a treat,” he said.
I poked his belly. “You are big enough,” I said. “Wait for your dinner.”
“I just don’t see what is so important that doesn’t have any tuna,” he muttered.
“It’s very important,” I said. “But the people fighting are on the same side. So it’s worrying when it starts to get intense.”
“Whoever wins is going to have to unite us all so they can start the real fight.”
“But for now, allies have chosen different sides and are slugging it out.”
He stretched out his neck so he could smell the computer again. “Everyone is fighting in there?” he asked.
“Yep,” I said, giving his neck a quick scratch.
“So what do you do?”
"Remind myself that this is normal and when it’s over we will come together again. Because we have to.”
“It’s a normal process, but it’s not easy. We slap and scratch each other — “
“Sometimes that’s fun,” he interjected.
“— and it can get pretty vicious. And then I just want to shake all of us.”
“But it’s normal. This isn’t my first rodeo,” I told him.
"It’s not mine, either,” he said. “I’ve had lots of tuna.”
I frowned at him. “What does this have to do with tuna?” I asked.
“I assume that’s what you meant by ‘rodeo’.”
I snorted and shook my head. “No tuna involved,” I told him. “Just togetherness and fighting a common enemy. Figuratively speaking.”
“And together, we can accomplish anything. The current fights will end soon and then we’ll be unstoppable.”
He got to all four feet and stretched, yawning. “We should accomplish some tuna right now. All this talk of fights over tuna makes me really want some.” He jumped to the floor and sauntered out.
“There’s no tuna,” I called after him.
“You have to get it for me,” he called back.
I sighed and set my computer aside, getting up to follow him.
Happy Caturday, Peeps! Remember, this too shall pass. XOXOXOXOXO