Crime And Punishment

I forgot to set the alarm last night. I'd spent the better part of the day planning for how best to tackle this morning's schedule. One does not want to be late on the first day of school, after all. Even if it is just workshops all day, it is still considered poor form. I must have double checked that alarm clock fifty times yesterday in preparation...but I still didn't get around to setting it.

Fortunately, I have a back up alarm clock. You probably wouldn't be all that shocked to learn that I've had issues with alarm setting in the past. I'm that kind of person. Plus it was fifty degrees last night and the inside temps never made it past 62. I was up early anyway because of the imminent frostbite. It all worked out and I was ready to go by 7:00. I get to go in an hour later than usual on workshop days so I had plenty of time to pull myself together. I even thought to tuck some knitting into my bag so that I could get a few rounds of sock done during the endless meetings. Alarm clock issues aside, I wasn't really worried about me...

The Big, Fluffy Kitty and I have been hanging out since the spring of 2000. We have an understanding regarding the school schedule. She knows I'll come back eventually. I can put on my coat and walk through the front door and she will barely blink. She has faith in me. Against all odds and after a rather rocky start in life, she still trusts the human race implicitly.

Grumpy countenance aside, she is the sweetest animal to ever walk the planet.

I wasn't worried about me. I wasn't worried about the BFK. But I was worried. Because there is one more resident here at the manse who has more in the way of abandonment issues. We call him the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty:

And he has correspondingly gi-normous abandonment issues.

It wasn't always like this. When he first came to live with me last summer, he was sort of like a polite house guest. He lived in the moment and enjoyed life when life gave him good things. He wasn't much for contact, but he'd wander by for a pat on the head every now and again. Mostly he was just a big goofball who simply wanted to make the most of a good situation while it lasted. In his world, I would imagine, the good times weren't a permanent state of affairs.

With time, though, he started to catch on to the fact that he was one of us. He seemed to come to terms with his new situation and allowed himself to connect a bit more. He didn't give his heart easily. But when he did...

He did it big. Gi-normously so.

Gone was his devil-may-care attitude and "seize the day" philosophy. He planted his absurdly gi-normous self by my side and no force on earth would move him. He lost his ability to tolerate the rest of the human race as well. Should anyone else come into the house, he now panics and flees the scene lest he be cat-napped. He has actually hurt me in these escape attempts. I'm not talking "oh-my-the-cat-has-scratched-me-would-you-get-me-a-bandage?" He has left bruises.

For the bulk of the last school year, I had to distract him with a toy before I could get out the door for work. Otherwise, he would block my path or try to follow me. I had to move quickly before he realized what was going on. It took great planning on my part to make certain that everything was ready to go before I broke out the dollar store cat cave he so loves.

Having been home for two months and enjoying my summer vacation, the schedule lightened up a bit. The AGK didn't have to worry every time I moved towards the door and he visibly relaxed. I found I was able to leave the house for short periods without having to go through the whole distraction routine.

But vacation is now over. I have to go to work. Every day. Without fail. Except for sick days and holidays and those don't come around as often as the working kinds of days. He is not going to like this.

I'm pretty sure that he didn't figure it out today. I guess he thought I was going to the grocery store or something. I exited the manse without incident. He probably figured it out sometime around noon or so and I can tell he isn't happy about this state of affairs.

When I got home this afternoon, he met me at the door as usual. Satisfied that I was in for the day, he then proceeded to storm off to the bedroom and didn't speak to me for two hours. There was no AGK at my feet, standing up using my knee for support or chattering happily while I checked my email.

In short, the cat was ticked off. For hours.

We are fine now. Everything is back to normal and my right foot is asleep thanks to the absurdly gi-normous weight resting upon it. I have been forgiven and all is right with the world.

Is there anyone out there who would like to volunteer to tell him that I have to go back tomorrow? And the day after that? And the day after that? I'd appreciate it.

Because I'm not saying a word.

SA