Missing the Office "Assistant"

It has been a little over three months now.  Three months that I have been able to sit in my office chair for virtual meetings or to write articles without interruption.  And I have to admit that I miss those interruptions.

It's true that I do not miss the struggle that was the final months of the Meeting Cat's (Bree's) life.  We had to frequently clean up messes because she had trouble holding food down and it was hard to see that life was less wonderful for her than it had been.  It was one thing to have the responsibility of making sure the Indoor Farm Supervisors were properly provided for.  It was another when they required a fair amount of special care because they weren't feeling well.  To be perfectly clear, I miss my little friend, I just don't miss the struggle that life had become.  I think that's perfectly fair as I suspect she didn't enjoy many of those same moments herself.

But, we have entered the season when the cooler weather would typically result in Bree walking into the office more frequently so she could station herself just under the desk and slightly to my right - waiting for the invitation to jump up and collect some of the warmth her human offered.  This was a trend that usually started in late September, as I started to spend a bit more time in the office than the fields.  And even once I started working for PAN, she had a tendency to seek out companionship more as we entered the Fall months and less as we moved to Spring. 

And that brings me to something I do recall.  Even though Bree wasn't feeling well, she still took comfort in the crook of an arm when she had the chance.  And she would reward the human with a soft purr, until she fell asleep for a little while - just because we were tolerating limited mobility for a time.

Were there times when I would get frustrated that she had this knack for coming and asking for attention just when I was starting to really concentrate on a project?  Of course there were.  But, she'd sit on the floor and look up at me with those big cat eyes.

You are MY human.  You cannot say no to me.  You do not want me to be sad.  Invite me up and I will not regret it.  YOU might, but I won't.

Yeah.  I often ended up regretting it either way.  If I said no, I would regret having to send her on her way without the attention she so richly deserved.  And, she was one of those cats that had a way of exuding disappointment and hurt if her request was denied.  If I said yes, I might find that I could not get the work done and I would regret that I now had even LESS time to get something done that needed doing.  After all, it is really difficult to type an article with only one hand.

But, now that she is gone, I also remember how many times we could come to an agreement where she would sleep in the crook of an arm - just so - so I could still type.  And suddenly I would realize a half hour had passed and the article was done.  And the cat was just waking up from a nap.  And the world was about as right as it could be for that moment in time.

And now it is October.  I actually felt a little bit chilly the other day as I sat at the desk to do some writing.  So, I looked down and to the right just a little bit.

And there was no cat looking back up at me.  So, I typed this blog post with two hands with no guilt and no interruptions.

And I didn't particularly like it.