I Know, I Know

When people come to our house for the first time, I watch as they glance furtively at the four cushions on our living room chairs. 

And I know what they’re thinking.  They’re wondering why we haven’t repaired those cushions.  How could we possibly ignore them, they ask themselves?  Surely, we see the damage, the tackiness.  Oh my, they wonder, might there might be financial issues?   Sometimes, I explain.  Other times, not so much.

I am fully aware that those cushions are ragged and ragged-y around the edges.  They’re hard to miss.  And every day, I regard them with happiness and loving memories.  So, no.  I’ll not be recovering or repairing those cushions anytime soon.

The stringiness and shabbiness of those cushions was created, over time and with great gusto, by Basil.  The one who left us two years ago. The one who also left his mark on more than one thing in this house and the one who’s “claw-work” will never, ever, be replaced or repaired.  We have our priorities.

“Perfection” is not a creed cat owners live by.  We get that saying “no” to a cat is ineffective.  And we accept that de-clawing a cat is inhumane. Purrs and contented countenances are what we want, love and enjoy.  Every single minute of every single day.  Absolutely nothing else matters.