Respite for the Respite-r....August 28, 1999

Respite for the Respite-r....August 28, 1999

I awoke from a restless night, unable to shake the still festering hostility I felt toward The Goddess. Perhaps only time will be of any assistance. Unlike The Goddess, who never gets off the emotional roller coaster, I cannot simply go from abject anger to snuggle bunnies at a whim. It is just not possible for me, no matter how much work I do at being more emotive. Wounds take time to heal, and I do not think I am suffering from emotional haemophilia.

One positive thing she did in all of this was to take my advice and call Frieda. At first she refused, saying that the only one who can relieve her insecurities is me. Well, I am not the source of said insecurities, and therefore, I refuse to feed into them so constantly by entertaining them to begin with. It certainly is no honour for me to be in said position.

Frieda called me to tell me she had been talking to my bride, and said that at first she was crying so heavily she could not even make out what she was saying. The conversation, as a whole, gave Frieda a good laugh, and by the end of it, The Goddess was laughing, too. Thanks for the reprieve, Frieda. I owe you one.

I think I have given The Goddess her devine-due this weekend, so on to other things.

I came downstairs this morning, hopping over and side tracking through the obstacle course Moo so generously created the night before (another reminder to self about the garbage can lid thingy). After Reekie and Moo were let out for their first of the day romp, I noticed something on the floor in the kitchen:

It was a Baby Moo tooth.

In the months I reared Reekie from a nine week old pup to an adult, he never once left me a disgarded tooth. I figure he swallowed them all. I also figured that Moo would do the same, until this morning's find. How easy it would have been to overlook, get swept up, or scuffed into the vent. A lot of people would be inclined to throw the thing away, I would hazzard to speculate, thinking it filthy and germ covered. To me, it is rather spiritual, and something I can keep to remember her by.

I know some jewellery makers in the First Nation community, perhaps I will have one of them fashion something for The Goddess. Moo is really her puppy after all.

At the same time I was encountering Moo's fallen tooth, I heard singing coming from my kitchen window. Glancing at it, I was bewildered as to the source, for I have cafe curtains that do not allow a great view when closed. I then noticed a tail swishing that protruded from the hem of said curtains, a fluffy tail.

It was Will. She was singing me a song. It was not a meow, nor a purr, but sounded like a genuine tune. I was thrilled!

Will, abused, abandoned, and lone survivor of the shelter's attempt to put a cat out of her homeless misery, has been very people shy for the two years I have had her. She rarely makes an appearance anywhere, and never makes a sound. Here she was, downstairs, in the kitchen window, singing like a morning bird. Her song was as beautiful as she is, long haired, multi-colored, graceful, yearning to trust.

I love it when my friends and my pets feel the need to take care of me....

....Blessed Be