Posts Tagged ‘achieving equanimity’

I sat in it.  I did not check, and I sat—yet, again—on a urine-soaked rubberized sheet that now covers our urine stained couch.  And because of my bad attitude toward my now urine soaked pants, Roger and I got into a bit of a fight.  Yes, it was dumb of me; I should have known better—I am the being with the larger brain, yes?

Granted, it is an old ugly couch, but now it’s an ugly old couch that smells—even with the now daily cleaning of that rubberized sheet.  The two culprits who make these contributions are either Junior or Blackie, the two most recent additions to our household.  I personally think that Blackie is a poor influence on Junior. But maybe I’m biased because at least I can cuddle with Junior…

I fully believe that once you take in an animal to be a part of your household, you are making a lifelong commitment to that sentient, feeling being—even if you don’t really like the creature.  Ok, I admit it.  I don’t care all that much for Blackie, but I do feel for him. He was the last cat brought into our home—after the death of his sister, Minnie Me, and the disappearance of his brother, Tawny. Roger felt he had not done enough for this litter and made it his mission—in the spring of 2010—to entice this partially socialized creature into the house and make Blackie an indoor cat.

Well, Roger was successful in luring this big, bulky black cat into the house, and Blackie is now an indoor cat—who at times still yearns for the freedom of the great outdoors…of our back yard.  So I think he urinates outside the litter box and terrorizes my poor but not-so-little Tigger to show his displeasure. 

With five cats, I realize my home will never be truly clean and fresh smelling.  But this constant urination and cleaning really wears on me. Can’t I go one day without cleaning urine?!!  Is Blackie my personal test for equanimity and accepting the things I cannot change?  Will I just have to live with a cat who does not care for me except during meal times?  Roger insists I am not doing enough to make Blackie comfortable with me.  But except for rare occasions when Blackie allows me to play with him, he runs away.

I am even sometimes tempted to accidently leave the front door ajar… But Blackie is a prime example of kitty Stockholm syndrome: he has, indeed, escaped twice in the year in a half he’s been in the house (both times Roger’s fault!), and both times he’s returned after several hours.  During his last attempt, he spent the entire night getting his butt kicked (mostly howling and hissing) by Orange Kitty… The next morning, he was waiting by the door to be let in.

Blackie Peering Curiously

I’m just frustrated. 

At this moment, the big black oaf is relaxing comfortably, catching a few rays in the sunroom… Of course I will do all that I can to ensure Blackie is safely ensconced in the home.  And continue my quest for balance and equanimity…

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