confessions

I'm extraordinarily low today.

I might have yelled and got upset with the cat for coughing up a furball on my pristine duvet.

In my defence I woke up to arrange the bed and noticed a smear of weird brown something on my sky blue duvet cover. 

Aghast, appalled and recoiling with disgust I knew at once who the culprit might be behind the odd smear of stains, which on closer inspection of duvet I realized were one too many.

I began by discerning that smear as cat poop and so infuriated was I that not for a second did I stop to think that 'Gogi' is one of the most well behaved cats who has never once in his thousand visitations to my house indulged himself in indoor ablutions. 

He usually meows a tone of tender cotton to be let out. 

I was irate and illogically vexed and screamed at the poor feline who'd just parked himself on my couch. 

He looked confused and even cantered up to me to get petted, something he does to display his affections whenever he feels I'm off.

I refused to pet, in fact, in a fit of silly rage and meagre vengeance I began cleaning my house with a vacuum; something he is pitifully scared of. I'd no other means of telling him I'm upset and boy was I angry at him.

As I'd suspected he was scared and meowed to be let out. Which I did. Not once petting him on his way out.

 

Tearing out the covers and flinging them in the washer and still somewhat seething with anger I realized that the brown stains after all might not be feline droppings after all.

Little did I care and once the covers were cleansed and smelling of lavender I remembered a dream I had.

One that had gogi puking in the bathroom. I'd dreamt that the cat was throwing up in the bathroom and this dream in fact had entwined in another because somewhere during my reverie I'd heard him coughing up a furball in the middle of night. I didn't wake up to it but it permeated my thoughts and this morning I'd forgotten all about it. 

Well, a furball isn't as bad as cat crap and now I feel bad for my churlish behaviour.

To mend this broken bridge I went out to find the little darling but he's nowhere around.

I even took him his favourite snack and waited, in vain.

I know I've upset him. Turning on the vacuum was indeed wrong on my part, and an extreme measure I resorted just to spite him. The awfulness of my actions now prick me and the guilt is crushing. 

My only hope is to find my friend and feed him all the food he wants and pet him to sleep in the snug fit of my arms.