familiars

The Art of Cuddling – Day 1066

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
How it starts – Photo: L. Weikel

The Art of Cuddling

I thought I had it down. After 41 years of marriage and three sons, I thought I was a master cuddler. A super snuggler. But watching these puppies contort themselves into positions of maximum warmth and comfort is a master class in the art of cuddling.

I’ve had at least one cat in my life all my life. Even before Katen came to me as my  kitten, when I was six, my family had a gray cat named Jack and a calico named Money. I’m pulling that name out of the air. I think that was her name. The memory of the calico feels so long and far away, it almost feels like another lifetime. I’m pretty sure I was pre-verbal when she was around.

Believe it or not, Karl and I even got a kitten on our honeymoon. We adopted him at the Brewster ASPCA, in Brewster, MA, on Cape Cod. Yeah. We were bound and determined, if not destined, to live amongst love.

Wow, come to think of it, we even adopted an orange kitten out of wedlock – while we were still in college at Penn State. He was such a sweet, long drink of water cat. Stretched out (which he loved to do), he was a cat and a half. I’m almost embarrassed to admit it, but we named him Sage. Nothing like our youngest son having the triple luck of being named after a wise one, a healing herb, and a beloved kitty.

Funnily enough, not unlike Tigger (my boy whom I took in when Sage and Sarah couldn’t keep him at their university), my mother took in Sage (the orange beast) when we realized he was playing with PSU housing staff under the door of my dorm room. Oops! Ha ha. She loved that cat so much…

Rootching around to get comfy – Photo: L. Weikel

Back on Point

My point is that I’ve always had my feline familiars schooling me in the art of the cuddle. Then Sheila came along – and taught me that snuggling with a puppy is distinctly different than with a cat. But Spartacus, being in our home from Day One of his life, took the art of cuddling to a whole new level. He had an unerring knack of molding himself so that he fit perfectly into the small of my back. Or when Karl insisted on ‘being there,’ Spart was always willing to ‘come around to the other side’ to be held by me. Three spoons in the drawer, so to speak.

But watching these two puppies from the same litter snuggle is beyond the pale. It’s a level of merging bodies and maximizing skin-time that surpasses anything I ever saw Sheila and Spartacus engage in. Sheila loved Spart every minute of his life. But she was his mother. They were never equals. They cuddled – but never really intertwined  the way these two do. It’s hard to explain.

A Cuddle Progression

So here it is. The first set of progressive photos, showing you how these two moved from a simple side-by-side snooze to – well – I don’t know what you want to call it. I think it speaks for itself, although it is almost like looking at one of those optical illusions that slowly make sense as your brain puts it into some semblance of order. (All of which reinforces my suspicion that I have a lot left to learn!)

That’s the ticket – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-45)

Little Things – Day 742

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Precious Awakened – Photo: L. Weikel

Little Things

Each and every day, particularly right now, focusing upon the little things in life, the things that make us smile, is an act of self-love. Off the top of my head, listening to my cat Precious snore like a longshoreman while curled up on the back of the couch right behind me fits that bill.

And now that I start to contemplate the many ‘little’ things I’m grateful for, I see how many of them revolve around non-human creatures, especially Spartacus (our Boston Terrier), Precious, Tigger, and Cletus. I can say without qualification that they bring a dimension of joy and comfort into my life that I’d be lost without.

Tigger Snoozing – Photo: L. Weikel

You know me…recounting the joys my four-legged companions bring to my life is something I engage in routinely. And it’s not at all likely that I’ll stop dipping into the pool of love they provide anytime soon.

That’s at least partly because simply living life in 2020 and paying attention to our collective reality means we are bombarded with news that hurts our souls. Literally. Even if we only cursorily glance at the headlines just to see where we stand as a community or a country, it’s enough to drain our energy and leave us feeling defeated, deflated, or perhaps occasionally worse: enraged.

Our nervous systems are drenched in the fight or flight hormones of cortisol and adrenaline. And unlike pretty much all other times in our nation’s history, because of the ubiquitous nature of technology in our hands, we are kept mercilessly up-to-date on the latest atrocities being waged against the things many of us care about most.

Spartacus & Tigger getting some flame time – Photo: L. Weikel

Purring and Comfort and Walks

Beyond the scientific proof that the purring of cats is healing to the physical body, I for one can attest to how my cats have mended tears in my emotions since I got my first kitten at age six: Katen. Katen was a black and white domestic shorthair cat with a white hourglass on his nose. He got me through my childhood, pure and simple. He was my closest confidant (although I was lucky enough to have a couple two legged ones too – you know who you are).

It’s amusing to me to realize that he was black and white – just like my beloved Sheila and Spartacus; just like Cletus. Indeed, just like the marvelous Stinky who’s been around recently.

I love feeling the heft of a cat on top of the covers, his purr resonating through the layers of sheets and blankets. (I will admit to allowing Spartacus to nestle along my back underneath the covers. Talk about a comfort.)

And the walks. The walks are good for all of us. All of these little things, these opportunities for giving and receiving love, make my life incredibly rich. I hope you have such little things too.

Cletus with a rare smile – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-369)

Familiars – Day 615

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Spartacus – A Happy Boy – Photo: L. Weikel

Familiars

I adore the four-leggeds with whom we share our life. In fact, I cannot imagine my life without having at least one of them in the family. Luckily for both of us, Karl shares my need to be surrounded by my familiars.

Nothing proves that point more clearly than that we honeymooned on Cape Cod – and adopted a gorgeous solid gray kitten at the ASPCA in Brewster, Massachusetts. Yes, our very first official act as a married couple, on the very first business day of the week following our marriage that weekend, was to drive through Cape traffic instead of going to the beach to see if we could find a kitten to adopt.

Brewster was his name and he was a trooper. While he ruled the roost for a year on his own, he oversaw Karl’s birth and eventually schooled him on the proper way to sneak hard cat food when I wasn’t looking. He gamely and not begrudgingly shared our laps with his ‘little brother’ Karl.

Fast Forward to Today

At the moment we, as you’ve occasionally been made aware, we share our home with two dogs, Sheila and Spartacus, and three cats, Precious, Cletus, and Tigger.

I could write about our beasts every night. Especially lately, they’ve been providing me with an abundance of fodder, some amusing and some sort of hard, but I’ve been trying to hold off.  Last night, however, brought a message that was hard to ignore.

Messengers

After completing my post for the evening, I made my way upstairs. Usually Spartacus is already upstairs with Karl, making a warm spot for me. Sheila, no longer able to navigate the stairs, sleeps downstairs in her soft furry bed. That makes me sad, but she doesn’t seem to mind, so I’ve become resigned to it.

Cletus religiously makes a pest of himself while I’m writing my post (every post, every night) by stomping around if he’s inside, howling to be let out, and then after he’s been outside for about 20 minutes, hurling himself against the screen door out front and sticking to it (with his claws) like Velcro – until his claws slowly rip the screen. That’s how he demands to come back in. He does this a couple times while I’m writing.

Precious is our paranoid one. If anyone came to visit (pre-Covid), she’d disappear and not be seen or heard from again. Not until the interlopers left. She’s mostly a loner, but every once in a while she’ll become frantically affectionate. It’s weird. But we love her. Even if she is a cellar-dweller.

And then there’s Tigger. We inherited Tigger from Sage after he (and his fiancé Sarah, truth be told) adopted him from a pet rescue place in central Pennsylvania. It ended up not being a great look for an RA to be harboring a fugitive kitty, so Tigger relocated to Bucks County. I think I’ve relayed the story of his name elsewhere.

Message to Mommy

Which leads me to the scenario that greeted me when I went to bed last night:

Mouse with Dog underneath – Photo: L. Weikel

I know; right? It’s as if they were lines up perfectly, in some surreal real-life enactment of a Medicine Card* pick! Mouse reversed with Dog underneath.

So freaking weird.

The only one who could’ve set this up would be Tigger. Had Precious participated in this macabre message delivery scheme, she definitely would’ve eaten the head off the mouse. Especially if she wanted to convey is as a ‘reversal.’

So. Tigger? Was that you? Were you behind this message to Mommy?

Tigger – Avoiding My Gaze – Photo: L. Weikel

Hmmph. Good thing I’m not squeamish. Poor mouse.

*affiliate link

(T-496)

Familiars – Day Thirty Three

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

Familiars

I need to admit something. I just fell asleep. Well, actually, I just woke up after accidentally falling asleep, and realize I have precious little time left to write my post this evening.

My pup, Spartacus, hopped into my lap about an hour ago, tucked himself into the nooks and crannies of my crossed legs, and fell asleep. When he fell asleep, the weight of his muscular Boston Terrier body settled in and he snuggled deeper and deeper. He sighed, and I could tell he was descending into his version of the dreamtime.

The funny thing is, I’ve been looking forward to writing this post all day. Not ‘this’ post specifically, obviously, since this clearly does not have a distinct point or purpose. But I found myself looking forward to reaching out and connecting in this fascinatingly compelling relationship I feel we’re engaging in.

I know some of you are reading my words, somewhere, be it in minutes, hours, or years from now, and I just love that sense. I can’t explain it. That sense of even one other person besides myself reading what I happen to share on this tiny piece of machinery in my lap (which has succeeded in ousting my deliciously warm, loving pup) is…magical.

Familiar? Or Connection?

I started out thinking I would write about my ‘familiars’ ~ my four legged family members who station themselves in such a way as to make me dance around them almost relentlessly, yet are such profound fonts of unconditional love and enthusiastic adoration. But now I’m thinking about you, my readers.

Hmm, what is the connection here? Maybe that’s precisely what it is: connection. With my pups and my kitties, the connection is, naturally, physical. There are words involved, but it’s debatable just how much they actually understand. Sure, they comprehend my tone and probably even facial expressions to an extent, and they certainly can ‘read’ the energy emanating from my entire body, mind, and spirit.

And then there is my connection with those of you who care enough to read my words. But our only connection, really, are those words. There is no shared eye contact, no touch, no warm hugs.

And yet, we’re connected. And it matters, to me at least, that you are there. Receiving my outreach, even if it’s only via words.

Thank you.

(T-1078)