Last year, I lost beloved orange tabby cat, Musette. She was around 15 years old and honestly lived longer than I expected with her persistent health issues. Ever since I adopted her in 2008, she was a trooper—always chasing her toys and stopping only to catch her raspy breath.
I'll always miss her, but I still carry many lesson she taught me.
Cats are supposed to sleep 16-20 hours a day. This was rubbish as far as Musette was concerned. Her behavior was more akin to canine tendencies: always underfoot, food-motivated, and ready to pounce the nearest string or ball toy. My allergies and her random sneezing fits prevented her from sleeping with us, so we often heard her mewling outside the bedroom door at first light. After that, it was food, play, following whoever's home for attention, then a short nap in one of her favorite spots.
Even if she didn't sleep much, she rested often. She would be in my lap staring up at me with adoration while I typed awkwardly around her. If hubby and I were gone for the majority of the day, she would be waiting by the door for us. I miss this even more when we come home from trips.
Her contrary behavior made me wonder if she picked up on some of my habits. Living with another creature for over a decade can do that. When I was calm, she shadowed me until I sat so she could curl up beside me. When I was upset, she stuck close. When I was stressed, she watched from afar as I cleaned the house with force. These were all reactionary and made more sense than thinking since I didn't sleep well, she didn't bother to either. She got excited when I had my restless 4am mornings. It was all, "Good morning, my person! Food time? Oh, couch time? Okay. I missed you! Puuuurrrrrr-Hack-Sputter-Puuuuurrrr."
I still guilt myself when I rest for too long. Tasks are in need of doing everywhere I look: dusty corners, sticky counter spills, brimming laundry baskets. Since I work freelance, mostly during the spring and summer, I have an abundance of free time to write. When I'm not traveling, volunteering, or at the park, I'm home. Unfinished chores are front and center. Most of them aren't pressing, so who cares if I wait one more day to vacuum or do laundry?
I do. My old nemesis, perfectionism, takes no breaks.
Hearing Musette's raspy voice or cuddling up on the couch with her was much easier than vegging on my own. She was a constant reminder that I need peace. I need to rest and recharge—and not just because she loved ramming her face into my knee.
Picking up a low-key video game with Musette purring beside me allowed my mind to wander. That was often the time and place where dangling plot holes took a shovel full of mental dirt.
Rest made it possible. Musette helped me get there. I may not have her vibrating my leg anymore, but I know that rest is still important for me. It's important for everyone. I still thank my cat for this reminder.
Rest well, friends. Life will find reasons to stress us, but may it never distract us from taking care of our needs. Mental health is every bit as important as physical. It's easier to be kind to others when we aren't ailing ourselves.
Keep on smilin'!
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