Meals on Wheels

May 8, 2019 at 10:14 am (Sweet sticky things)

I’ve been away a while, mentally. A lot of heavy stuff has gone down, and I had some thinking to do. (Still do.) I’ve been in a blue space, and needed some help shaking it off.

Dizzy texted me, she was going out of town and would I peek in on Naomi, the true queen of the house. Naomi is sixteen years old. I don’t even want to think how old that is in human years. (80. I had to look. That ain’t so bad.) She reminds me of a feline Granny Clampett, her meows a scratchy roar. “MROW!”

Dizzy left explicit instructions, detailed in a flowery note covered in doodles inspired by the sativa I’d traded her for a nug of her couch-weed. Everything laid out with surgical precision. I think I can manage.

My first visit was met with no little bit of indignance. Naomi looked outside the door, cussed me out a little, then gave me the cat-scan. I was cool. Permission to enter.

I was asked to look for signs of kitty distress; puke-bombs, poop in improper places, etc. I’d kitty-sat before, and she’d left me some presents. This time we were cool.

Sugarmama had given me a McDonaldburger, so Naomi and I had lunch. She ate a sizable portion of the food, gave my head a rub with hers, and disappeared to the loft. I took a couple puffs and went back to the store to flirt with Sugarmama.

I was more practiced entering the second visit. I had the door open and was half inside when Naomi came flying down the stairs, “Mrow mrow mrow.” She waltzed up to me, checked out the scene, and waited patiently to be fed. After a hearty snack, she went back to her nap spot in the loft.

I would sit on the stairs next to the window overlooking northwest downtown, she would crawl up on my shoulder like a parrot. Lots of mind-melds, as I like to call them. Her cranial pressure emphasizes the love, and I soak it up. I can use all the love I can get right now.

I make sure to pet Django every chance I get. He’s a macho-cat, so I’d better not pet him when the neighbors can see. And Luna, my big goofy dog. I have taught her to give hugs, and she’s taught me to high-five.

Family has meant a lot to me lately. I fret for my sister, my bro-in-law, their kids. No reason, other that when you love something so much you can’t stand to think of being without them. I get that more than ever right now, and know it’s the same with Dizzy and Naomi.

I was early returning Dizzy’s keys, so I popped in on Naomi one more time. She was almost lackadaisical at my entrance. “Hmm, I wonder if he’s Dexterized the Motherhuman? Oh well, as long as I keep getting Meals on Wheels…”

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