My cats can tend to live each day as if habits are clockwork. The same cat will wake me. Once we are on our way to the kitchen there is the leader, then the follower, and the one that jumps over the others to speed on ahead. They sit in the same spots as I make coffee, get out their food---and they have an absolute pecking order when it comes time to bury their noses in the food dish. They can tell time, can hear the opening of a tuna can from fifty yards. They line up to each get the little pat on the head, the little tug on the tail. Taking that all into consideration I find it strange that they sometimes have difficulty recognizing me. If I come from the shop wearing a different color coat---different clothes--they turn on their ready to run buttons, preparing to be off like a shot. They have taught me to talk to them. To jabber away so they hear my voice. I could be buck naked or dressed in a gorilla suit, but as long as I say something----they remain calm, actually indifferent. How like little human beings they are, in that. How easy it is for us to forget the power of our voice. The tool we have that is the foundation of our ability to communicate with each other. How reassuring our voice can be to the other human beings we encounter. What a difference a Good morning, or a hello, or even a grunt can be. A simple sound that speaks pretty basic information. I am not a threat, I am here, I am greeting you, I acknowledge you as a living, real being. A simple tool that says I am alive, and recognize the life in you. How sad it would be, if for some warped reason, we would get to the point where our imagined fear of each other---our sense of isolation--our unwillingness to be involved---would cause us to be speechless. Good morning People. Good morning, Good morning.
Posted on: Tue, 28 Oct 2014 16:07:01 +0000
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