I have a good life. I do. I’ve got the love of a good man, a roof over my head, a back-up roof (now under contract, woo hoo!), and a job that – if nothing else – pays for me to have both those roofs.
But sometimes the little things in life pile up. Sometimes a girl just has to cry to let the weight go.
Like today at lunch time.
Poor Obi was just getting his belly rubbed when all of a sudden the tears started coming. Of course he was concerned, but purr therapy is in the job description of the Chief Executive Kitten. Obi purred at me. He hug-butted me. He went to the end of the couch and looked desperately for Oliver. Then he came back to me.
Eventually, Oliver showed up to take over. Oliver is probably the best purr therapist I have ever had. He is very calm and just lays beside me and purrs. Once in a while he’ll pat my face or kiss my chin. And the hugs come steadily. It really works quite well.
And, of course, since he is a professional there is always follow up care. Every time I’ve been sitting down this evening he has been in my lap. An extra purr to support the initial therapy.
The things that were wrong this morning are still wrong this evening. But I feel better now.
Oliver is taking a long nap before bedtime – purr therapy is hard work.
It’s Thunder Thursday! This week’s guest fuzzy is Dot. Dot is the head salespuppy at Deselms Fine Art here in Cheyenne. She belongs to my friend Harvey. The art – including mine if I can get my backside into the workshop – and Dot make a visit to the gallery worthwhile whenever you are in Cheyenne.