Do Not Disturb

I’m not wild about interruptions.

I’m especially not when I’m Godwriting or watching TV. What an unlikely pair, but there you are.

In both cases, I want to get back to what I’m doing.

Someone knocks on my door always just three minutes before the end of a movie, and I never know how it ends.

And wouldn’t you think that when I’m Godwriting I would be at my best? But no.

My daughter is out of town this week, and I am taking care of her cat.

Even though writing down a Heavenletter takes only about twenty minutes, while I was Godwriting this morning, Teeny-Weeny interrupted me three times. Three times! Teeny-Weeny does not understand waiting.

First, he was meowing, and I couldn’t find where he was. I hunted fruitlessly, and then went back to Godwriting.

Then he kept meowing and finally came out of nowhere. Then, of course, I had to feed him, and, grumbling, I went back to Godwriting.

And then I’m happily Godwriting, and Teeny-Weeny finished eating and wanted to go out. I let him out and finished Godwriting, muttering under my breath.

Godwriting has done so many great things for me, but, ironically, it hasn’t exactly made me saintly or even patient, especially when I’m in the act.

There goes my image. The cat is out of the bag.

Posted by Gloria on November 6th, 2007 under these topics
Purely Personal, Heaven Letters, Godwriting Journal

Post Discussion

5 Replies

Reply from Carol Maurer on November 6, 2007

“The cat is out of the bag.” Ooooh–metaphors, puns and all kinds of fun stuff! Just like God, I notice.
Those of us who have cats know what you are talking about. We may get tired of being doorman to a cat, but the alternative is not to have a cat around. There’s something about a cat’s ability to make itself SO comfortable (sleeping 19 hours a day) that it lends a great deal of comfort to home.

Reply from Xenia on November 6, 2007

Dear Gloria, your image isn’t tainted, you are still an Angel in human form!

As for the cat…..you have probably heard this before:
“For a dog, you are the master.
For a cat, you are the servant.”

Reply from Beverly Herman on November 10, 2007

In the past I was blessed and honored to share my life with two amazing birds. The birds were my dear friends. Currently I am slave to two kitties who, even at their young ages, are playing mind games and experimenting with devious ways to control me. This email I received is a cute illustration of basic differences in our beloved animal friends:

PET DIARIES

     DOG JOURNAL:

      7 am - Oh boy! A walk! My favorite!

      8 am - Oh boy! Dog food! My favorite!

      9 am - Oh boy! The kids! My favorite!

      Noon - Oh boy! The yard! My favorite

      2 pm - Oh boy! A car ride! My favorite!

      3 pm - Oh boy! The kids! My favorite!

     4 pm - Oh boy! Playing ball! My favorite!

    6 pm - Oh boy! Welcome home Mom! My favorite!

      7 pm - Oh boy! Welcome home Dad! My favorite!

      8 pm - Oh boy! Dog food! My favorite!

      9 pm - Oh boy! Tummy rubs on the couch! My favorite!

      11 pm - Oh boy! Sleeping in my people’s bed! My favorite!

      
      A CAT’S DIARY:

      Day 183 of my captivity.

      My captors continued to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.

      They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal.

      The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from clawing the furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another house plant. Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded. Maybe I should try this at the top of the stair. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair. I must try this on their bed.

  Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body in an attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little kitty cat I was. This is not working according to plan.

There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary confinement throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the food. More important, I overheard that my confinement was due to my powers of inducing something called “allergies.” Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.

  I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit.

  The bird, on the other hand, has got to be an informant. He speaks with them regularly, and I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room, his safety is assured. But I can wait.

It’s only a matter of time.
      

Reply from Jo on November 11, 2007

Beverly, these diaries are hilarious and so true! I’m going to send them on to all of my friends with four-footed companions. Thank you!

Reply from Gloria on November 12, 2007

The bird, an informant, really cracked me up!

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