After moving to Baton Rouge, I went back to Dallas for 3 weeks to work....and to avoid the reality of my move. I'm back now. Glad to be back, actually. Avoidance has been had; and has elapsed into content acceptance. Anyway, it saddens me to admit how much I missed my kitty cat while I was gone. I suppose it makes sense to acknowledge the absence of your shadow. For three weeks straight, no matter where I was, I sat on the toliet without hearing her whiny meowy begging for entrance to the bathroom. I slept every night without her heavy warmth on my tummy. I ate multiple bowls of cereal without wincing at the sight of her paw in my milk.
Towards the end of my trip, I placed a picture of her (laying on the couch, holding the remote in her paws) on my dashboard just to cut the pain of missing her. I started to get nervous that she would hate me upon my return. My roomate had informed me that Bridget had adapted quite well in the new house. She was playing cheerfully with the other animals and socializing without hesitation. I wondered if she would take one look at me upon my return and display a "who the hell are you?" attitude. I wondered if she would ignore me....just for spite (as if cats really have the mental capacity to do such a thing).
Finally, I decided my fears were unreasonable, and I focused on a delightful daydream of our reunion: Backdropped by a green field and surrounded by yellow and purple wildflowers, we ran slowly towards each other. I was barefoot; dressed in pastel linen; my hair flowing behind me; lost in a slow-motion sequence with my arms outstretched. Bridget sported a flower...mysteriously stationed behind one ear; also caught in a slow-motion sprint. At this pace, her off-center run is exaggerated to resemble a 1950's Disney cartoon in which Goofy's legs get ridiculously tangled until he eventually loses control and plummets off a small cliff. I sometimes expect this to happen when she runs, but she always manages to pull through okay.
Well...the reality wasn't as pleasant as the daydream, but it was certainly heartwarming enough to satisfy me. It has been just as though I never left to begin with. We are, once again, joined at the heart and at the hip. I have only one complaint. I left an innocent kitty and returned to a pre-teen. Bridget and Webber (the icky boy cat) have apparently become "boyfriend and girlfriend". Their relationship is not of a sexual nature. Neither one has the parts for that type of activity. However, they do follow each other around and engage in playful chases and wrestling matches. Whenever Bridget hears the "jingle jingle" of his collar, she leaps in front of the mirror and licks the fur on her face smooth...pinches her cheeks to make them rosy. I caught her tracing "Bridget Loves Webber", in bubble letters, in her kitty litter yesterday. I wouldn't be suprised if they soon exchange friendship braclets. They grow up so quickly, don't they?
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