There's a customer who comes into the shop on Saturday morning after yoga and buys a bunch of flowers.
She takes her time, browsing, chatting, picking this flower for its color, that for its scent, this one for its lack of toxicity for animals. She has 3 rescue cats, two male, one female, about 8 months old. Todays bouquet began with hyacinths.
It has only been the last 2 weeks I have overheard her conversation and been drawn out into the front of the shop to talk to her. About cats. Dear God.
She's very funny and we laugh long and loudly at the foibles of one another's kittens. My co-workers roll their eyes at one another. I should be embarrassed but I'm not. The cats bring so much pleasure and so little sleep I am totally lacking in shame over wearing my heart on my sleeve.
Monday they are off to the vet for their surgeries. Two kittens are enough. I asked my new friend if Gus will calm down a wee bit after losing his manhood.
She assured me he will not. Hers,she said, strutted back into the house as if they had never left and nothing had been done to them. Full of piss and vinegar she said.
Oh.
Good, I said weakly.
8 hours sleep, who needs it?
8 hours sleep, who needs it?
