Easy, Like Sunday Morning

I was sailing towards Martinique, the sea was a deep blue and the crisp wind cutting across the caps of the waves.  Another beautiful day, sun at my back and strong wind racing my boat towards the Island.  Then the weather changed and the dark clouds started to boil.  I felt a heaviness on my chest and became aware of that god of the sea, Neptune, watching every move I made, waiting for his chance to capsize my boat.  I squinted and barely opened my eyes to the brightness of the day, totally amazed that the clouds had disappeared.  Then I saw it.  The cat.  In all her long whiteness gathered about her staring with the deep blue eyes at me as she sat on my chest.  “Dear, your cat is hungry.”  I nudged my loved one with my elbow.

“Damn it Bill, I was asleep.”  Well yes a good morning to you too, I thought.  “It’s Saturday, it’s your turn to feed Tiffany.  I’m going back to sleep.  And don’t forget to put on the coffee.  You remember how, don’t you?”

The cat was still staring at me through those big blue persian eyes.  “Yes, I remember, eight cups and three scoops.  And you, your highness, how will you have your custard and cream?”  Her Highness raised up and proceeded to stretch herself complete with claws clenching the blanket.  Then she pushed off with a mighty spring and landed on the floor.  It took me a minute to slip out of bed and into my slippers and robe.  It took her highness less time that that to start toying with my feet.  Tail up in the air she led me to the kitchen where she stared at my every move.  I found the canned food in the fridge and put a couple of scoops in her bowl while adding a little kibble.  The bowl couldn’t move fast enough for the cat as she was reaching out with a paw trying to pull it to the floor.  Well, so much for the cat, I thought.  Now for the coffee.

I dutifully measures the water and the scoops of coffee and put them into the machine.  Now press the buttons and the coffee should be ready presently.  Time to pull out the small skillet for the eggs and the large on for the bacon.  Saturdays and Sundays are only days of the week that I am allowed to have such luxuries, Monday through friday is granola and plain yogurt.  I swear I ate better when I was single.  Over easy or scrambled, decisions, decisions, decisions.  Over easy it is.  Place a little butter in the skillet and turn the heat to low, crack the two eggs and add to the pan, top with sea salt and pepper, maybe a little ground dried onion and garlic, and let them sit.  the bacon is already starting to sizzle and pop, four strips of thick sliced.  No toast for me but Anne will want some later.  Everything is almost done and the cat is bothering me, maybe she wants out.  Well, get it on a place and go to the door.  I open the door and the cat sits in front of it.  “In or out, in or out!  Make up your mind,  The flies are starting to come in the house.  so what is it, ino or out?”  I’m just about to close the door and the stupid cat bounds out the door.

I take my plate to the table with my cup of coffee and start to enjoy myself.  Anne comes in and looks at my plate.  “How disgusting.  How can you eat all that fat and cholesterol? ”

My answer is simple. “It tastes good.”  The smile on my face challenges her sensibilities.  She pours herself a cup of coffee and sits across from me continuing her wakeup process.  The sound of a cat growling and yowling breaks the silence.

“Where’s tiffany?”

“Outside, why?”

“Something’s wrong!”  Anne starts towards the door.  I’m half a step behind her.  That white ball of fluff is cornered bu two big dogs about to grab her.  It takes me less that a second to get myself out the door and running towards the two brutes.  They start to turn on me but I manage to smack one in the snout with my fist and kick the other one in the ribs.  Both beat a hasty retreat as I scoop up the terrified cat.  Normally she would be clawing me to death, can’t stand to be picked up.  But Tiffany is relaxed and purring and I cuddle her in my arms.  We go back inside the house and Anne raises a fuss over her cat, acting the mother hen.  Me, I get another cup of coffee and head for the couch.  Time to read the paper and plan our day.  In less than a minute that cat in sitting in my lap, something she has never done before.  she is curled up, purring, and trying to get me to stroke her fur.  I think what the hell, and rub her chin and the top of her head.

“You know what?  She loves you.  She really loves you.”

“Yeah, well I guess I’m easy.”

“Yes, dear, easy like Sunday morning.”


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