Do you have one of these at home? Ever since I got back home from surgery, our cat Josephine has made herself my constant companion, my cat nurse. She’s been near to, next to, or right on top of me nearly every one of the past 96 hours. With her rolling little purr, nice body heat, and sandpaper tongue, she’s served as sedative, bed warmer, and hygenist, subjecting my limbs on more than one occasion to furious little baths that leave me gritting my teeth. She’s only gotten up to stretch, make short visits to the great outdoors, eat, use the litterbox, or — as happened a couple nights ago to the detriment of my sleep — join a multi-cat, multi-floor, multi-hour ‘mousecapade’ that only ended when the Rodent Rescue Patrol (my frazzled wife) safely escorted one severely harried mouse out to the front yard.
I’m the first to admit that Josephine’s behavior may be more self-serving than maternal. After all, I am a captive lap. And she’s certainly gotten more than her usual share of petting and chin scratches in return for her attentions. But time and again, she’s behaved this way whenever one of us gets sick or laid up for a few days. She’s almost diagnostic in that regard.
I must say, though, that as good a nurse as she is, she’s actually a pretty bad physical therapist. She can’t seem to resist crawling on me when I’m doing my exercises. Leg lifts? Time settle on the pelvis. Quad sets? Time to walk on the injured knee. Ankle rotations? Let’s see if we can’t get some fur in his mouth. Puh!
But whatever her motives or shortcomings, she’s been excellent company and great medicine. If you’re going through something like me, I highly recommend getting a cat nurse. If you have trouble finding one, let me know. Josephine’s not very particular. I’m sure she’d make a house call.