Cats rule my world.
That is…the cats in my household.
Tara-Habby rules the first floor. (Queen Bee will have a blog entry of her own,very soon.)
My second floor apartment is home to three cats.
Three cats who rule my world.
Of course, words cannot describe their rein over my abode but pictures, yes, pictures are visual proof.
Beds
Chairs
Gym
Scratching Post
Groceries
Cabinets
The visuals could go on, and on…it stops here.
Yes.
My cats rule my world. (sigh)
Walking the fur babies this morning led to a wonderful quote from a woman I greeted with, “How are you?”
“Too blessed to be stressed”, she replied and smiled a smile that competed with the brilliance of the sun’s rays on the sidewalk
. 
What a positive way to begin one’s day. A new day, without the anger and disappointment carried over from yesterday or the worries and fretfulness of tomorrows ‘what’s to come’.
Too blessed to be stressed.
Those words remind me to heed and acknowledge the power of Gratitude.
Gratitude often ignored, often forgotten while one concentrates on the wants of what to have, and not of what one already has.
It’s hard.
Life gets in the way and ruins all the good thoughts.
I don’t have a shower with cold water-at least I have a shower.
I don’t like the food I’m forced to buy due to finances-at least I have food.
I don’t like the apartment I live in as it’s overheated, too humid and needs new flooring and tiles-at least I have an apartment to call my own and it keeps me warm, with a floor to walk on.
I don’t have enough money-at least I have some money.
I don’t like having to make my own lotion and shampoo because I can’t afford to buy the ‘good stuff’-at least you have the ingredients and the stove and fridge to make the lotion and the shampoo.
I don’t like Fios or Time Warner service and can’t afford the full package deal-at least I got cable and a tv to watch it on.
I can bathe, cook, clean myself up, wake up from sleeping in a comfortable bed, have fur babies whom I love ( and where my salary goes to), a salary of some sort, food (okay it’s not all organic and vegan as I’d like it to be), once again FOOD, clothing (okay most of it’s from Sears)-so I need to shut up, get my butt back into volunteering and going to church to ease my mind and get the balance right in my head.
Yes.
I am too blessed to be stressed.
**images from the Word Wide Web.
Yeah right!
Still single so how could I?
But…
I would do anything for love when it comes to my fur babies.
I’m already doing it. My salary is theirs. Working for the six animals in the household. Four require serious and not so serious medication while the other two are thriving.
Health report of the fur babies:
Tara-Habby-Queen Bae.
Big E-Leader of the upstairs pack.
Winnie-Herpes
Fate-Fibrinous Anteriour Uveitis in both eyes-FIP suspect
Pi Patel-aside from a career as a Mulberry model –possible liver cancer/dermatologic issues
Toby-cataract and liver issues
The caretakers:
Me-increased consumption in wine and trying to be a runner as well as trying to be a Buddhist, trying to be an Episcopalian, while pretending to be a Catholic.
Mom, my mom-bitchin about the fur babies!
It’s all good.
At least, I keep telling myself, mantra style.
I’m gonna brag a bit.
No.
Not brag about the restaurants I visited, the vacations I had, my PR running time or even the enormous amount of weight I lost.
I’m a gonna brag about the Furbabies.
The Furs.
Home Cooking:
Anti inflammatory recipe for Pi Patel and now Tobias thanks to my dear neighbour Karen!
This is how they roll…in the house of course.
Ok.
Enough of the brag.
I thought bringing a second cat in the home would have many benefits.
I thought Tara-Habby was in need of a sister, another cat who could share in the tormenting of the two mini schnauzers, whom she deemed privileged to live with her.
I thought two cats are better than one.
I thought Tara-Habby and Winnie would be the best of friends, grooming each other, playing and getting stoned on catnip together.
I thought…
WRONG!
My household is now a battle ground between two female cats, one who wants to play and the other bent on showing the other one who’s the boss.
Hissing, meowing, chasing, racing, climbing, catnip stonage used to refuel the hissing, meowing, chasing racing, climbing!
Why can’t they just get along?
They do. In their own way.
The hissing does not require my spray water bottle intervention.
The meowing does not require the use of my strong voice mode of ‘Stop It!’
The chasing, racing, climbing just requires my getting out of the way.
The catnip stonage…yeah…I admit to being their catnip dealer.
Tara-Habby and Winnie’s relationship is a work in progress and they may never be the BFF’s I’d hope them to be.
And that’s absolutely okay by me.
Anélemc's Writing 
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