Goldfish Memory

Summer days have caught up with me. That's my excuse for not having posted anything in so many days. I've had to work a lot more shifts than usual as well, covering for those who enjoyed the sun abroad. What I like most these days is spending lazy mornings in the bed. Preferably with my favorite bundle of joy of course.

One of the strangest thing about my cat is her memory. Hubby calls it goldfish memory. I have not done a full research yet, but if it equals our little girl's memory, it must be really short.

In moments like on this picture, she craves for some caressing. And of course she gets lots, until she suddenly shakes her head and gets up on her feet with the moodiest expression on her face. I could never read that behavior well. But I know she's very displeased with something at the latest when she makes that funny and, I believe, very unique sound. Hubby and I compare it to a kind of pigeon sound, and we playfully "coo coooo" around the house if something is a little displeasing.

Funny thing is, it takes about one minute, which I of course silently and patiently wait. Cause there's nothing like the moment I innocently call her by the name and she tilts her head around the curtain, stares at me with those big eyes and mews a few times as she stumbles closer, as if asking for a bit of space there next to me.

Really? That easy? Not even a little grumpy "cooo" about whatever bothered her one minute ago? If only it was this simple for us to overcome uneasy feelings. Sometimes I wish for a goldfish memory, so everything left on my mind would be the thought "Hey, you got some more space there next to you?" while I stretch my front paws.

Thoughts on Unconditional Love

Lately I have been thinking a lot about unconditional love, and I like to explain my thoughts by using a furry example that runs around in our apartment like a nutter when playfully chased.

Our cat is a very strange creature. Let me assure you, I knew very well that she would be a handful, and I only picked her because my mother and hubby talked me into it. But I could see in her eyes that she would be the exact opposite of the pet I actually desired to have around me. 

Mada is terribly annoying. She vomits if I don't feed her the most expensive and exquisite food available only in special pet shops. She spends half an hour (I am not exaggerating) scratching the plastic of her litter box in the middle of the night, letting everyone know she just took a dump. She gets very strange attacks all of a sudden and then gallops through the entire apartment, her tail similar to that of a squirrel. Her pupils are constantly widened, she is suspicious most of the time, and she dislikes to sit on our laps or receive caress and cuddles when she's not in the mood. And she's rarely in the mood. 

Yet and despite all this I deeply and truly love her. When she starts purring and crawls under my blanket, digs her claws into my skin leaving painful scratches, combines it with some vigorous licks along my arm with her sandpaper-tongue - right in that moment a decision was made by me. It was so easy, and filled me with joy.

I decided to embrace the way she was showing me her love, even though it really hurt and brought me much discomfort. But I simply opened my heart and received what she was giving, instead of being grumpy about the way she was sharing her affection. I did not deny or reject her simply because she does not act the way I expect her to. How could she, there is no way to change her.

Now apply this thought to human relationships, and you will be utterly despaired. I have not yet been able to deeply love somebody without certain expectations of how I would like to be loved in return. And instead of seeing and embracing what is there, I am lost in "ifs", "shoulds" and "woulds", always disappointed if my needs are not met, as small as they might be sometimes.

But it is my little project, something I work on and strive towards every day - to love without conditions.