Persephone strolls through her morning at cat-plod pace. She has her routine, and it proceeds from check to check when she’s ready. First she wakes up, lies on my chest and mews, “pet me,” until I comply.
If I don’t act immediately, she reaches a paw out and taps my mouth. That’s her way of saying, “Mew dude, Right now it’s my paw, next it’s my butt. You might want to pet me now.” When it’s time, she licks herself, then stretches into item three on her list.
Me, I ping through my morning like an errant pinball. Once I’m done spitting foul fur from my mouth, I spring from my bed and brush my teeth. That’s about the time my alarm goes off. I bounce back to the room to stop the shriek, then rebound to the sink for rinse then spit.
“mew.” That’s “about time” in cat speak. The alarm disrupts her bath concentration. I start my shower.
While I suds up and sing Abba tunes, Persephone finishes her bath, then hops down from the bed and waits by the bedroom door. The next item on her list is “eat,” and that happens when I jump out of the shower.
Sort of.
See, this is where the first Ford Escort parks on the train tracks of our day. I finish the shower, dry off, and step into the bedroom. Persephone bounds down the hallway. Somewhere out there, she looks back to notice I didn’t follow. She returns to the bedroom, where she notices that I’ve opted for clothes today.
“Mew.”
“yeah, sorry, need the clothes if I’m gonna go outside and get the paper. You weren’t here last fall to hear the howling over the harvest moon.”
“Mewhatever.”
I get dressed, start for the door; she runs down the hall; I remember I forgot my glasses in the bathroom. She appears in the doorway.
“Mewhat now?”
I start towards the door; she bounds down the hallway; I remember I forgot my slippers. It’s cold. I go to the closet and grab them.
“MEWTF?”
Yeah, MyEx came by this weekend to pick up a pair of shoes and to meet Persephone, and Persephone told her all about it.
“Mewhy can’t I go home with you?” She expressed rubbing MyEx’s hand.
MyEx passed along the pets of empathy, but it didn’t soothe the savage beast.
“Mewe’ll see if I let you back in here again. Here’s something from my catbox for ya!” Persephone scratched at the floor with her hind paws.
“It’s ok, girl,” I empathize. “I tried that once before too. It doesn’t change anything.”
I empathize because I’ve been there, MyEx empathizes because she’s been there too. In all of our time together she’s always known me as a falling leaf fest scattered around the tree of direction.
It’s Rob leitmotif. I’m a flurry of misdirected energy. If I were a chicken, my head would be in my hand as I Macarenaed around the yard.
“It’s the headless chicken-Rob.”
Except there’s no panic. I don’t panic. There is order to my disorder. That’s because I know what I’m doing, just not where I’m going. That’s my dynamic dynamic; now all I need is a conjunction junction.
Because of that, my relationship with Persephone is at a junction, other than food, she’s wondering what’s my function. It’s like we’re married. All relationships go through this phase: the breaking in. It’s where you decide if you issues and flaws can align well enough to continue. It’s like putting a puzzle together. Do we form a coherent shape our are we just scrambled pieces that don’t fit?
Persephone is a nano-focused ambler. I’m Mentos drop in Mountain Dew followed by a mouthful of Pop Rocks. We’re like the odd couple except, I’m both Oscar and Felix and she’s Garfield, if he were still funny.
Can we get along? So far so good. It just takes patience: something both of us lack—but see? That’s something we have in common. It’s something we can build on. It’s our bond. It’s the starting point for all patterns.
It’s the same with a marriage. You start with your similarities, and build from there. Sometimes you build for the better; sometimes you build for the worse. The trick is to try and remember what brought you together in the beginning—it’ll make you richer, not poorer.
For Persephone and I, it was my home, and her mouser skills. That’s what brought us together. As long as we keep those things in focus, we should be fine. Oh, I do know that there will be conflict. Persephone does seem a bit passive aggressive, especially after I pooped in her cat box. It’s ok, we’re learning.
I just have a hunch that tomorrow she won’t start with the paw.
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