Cats are skilled negotiators. And none is more skillful than Uma Maya, Empress of Chatsford Hall. She's able to convince me to do whatever she wants, whenever she wants without a single word. I believe that Catherine the Great had the same effect on the Orlov brothers.
Uma has gotten too old to climb stairs but it's not a problem for her because she gets me to carry her up whenever she feels the urge to view the world from a second-floor window. In fact, she's gone so far as to train me.
Each morning at 6:00 AM, I get out of bed and make my way to the bottom of the staircase where I find her waiting for me. She is already in position looking up the stairs. I place one hand under her chest and one behind her butt. She then sits in my hand and up the stairs we go.
Uma uses methods far less grandiose than C the Great but her quiet persuasion has left an indelible mark on our mornings together. The ritual of carrying her up the stairs has become a big part of our spiritual bond, a testament to the intriguing ways in which she and I share our lives.
There is a specific reason why she wants to be in the window seat at that hour; the big yellow school bus stops on the street just below her window. Her face lights up with excitement and her eyes show an intense focus whenever the bus stops, lights flashing in the pre-dawn darkness, and the children begin making a big fuss to climb aboard.
I admit that I too find it an exciting way to start the day.
You're probably wondering how and why a grown man is so easily manipulated by a 9-pound calico furball. But if I explained, I'd have to begin by describing what my childhood was like and then discuss all that unpleasantness during the decade of excess, and I just don't feel like going into it right now.
The short of it is that our morning ritual is a reminder that we all have our quirks and oddities that make us who we are. As one good friend recently put it, We're all a complex mess! So while it may seem a little looney to some, I prefer to think of it this way: the most interesting people often dance to music that only they can hear.
I love watching Uma as she's watching the bus that we fondly refer to as Juliet. We took the name from the phrase that goes, "What light from yonder window breaks...something, something, and Juliet..." Do you know it? It belongs to the Bard--not Google's Bard; the Stratford on Avon guy, who seems to have had a way with words that Generative AI can only achieve in its dreams.
Watching Uma as she eagerly waits for the big yellow every morning with such intense curiosity makes me wonder if she feels that she's missing something by not being on that bus. Perhaps she muses that a day in school might expose her to the finer points of stalking mice. Impossible to know exactly what's going through her mind. Cats keep their deepest passions close to their heart.
Uma's fascination with the big yellow school bus taught me that curiosity knows no bounds. Just as she ponders the mysteries of the passing bus, I wonder about the ever-changing world around me.
Uma's eloquence, though silent, motivates me to embrace my own curiosity. For all I know, the constant pursuit of understanding is the path to the unexpected joys of life. The thought gives me a reason to get out of bed in the morning.