She gets it. She gets it very well. When I come home, she still runs to the door. When I wake up in the morning she still tries to jump into my arms. She puts herself into the path of my cane or crutches, knowing full well that there’s a chance she’ll get attention if she keeps me from moving. She has no problem jumping into my lap while I’m trying to make breakfast.
Sometimes, I wish people were a lot more like cats. No, I don’t want random strangers launching themselves into my lap. That would be weird. But cats seem to have this very calm acceptance about things. They don’t care if you’re up and walking one day and sitting the next.
When I first came home with crutches the cats were confused and curious. They sniffed. They watched. They ran away a couple times. But over time they adjusted just fine. Now, the only time my cat gives me a second glance is when she’s trying to figure out how to get into my arms or lap.
There are times when we fight over my wheelchair as she finds it ridiculously comfy. I’ll be trying to move her from the seat and she’ll be clinging onto the cushion for dear life and the minute I sit back in it, she’ll be launching herself into my lap.
Cats don’t ask questions. They don’t look at you in awkward ways. They don’t judge. Okay, that’s a lie. Cats are very judge-y creatures, but if you still pet them, pay attention to them, and treat them as royalty, they judge you worthy no matter your gimp level.
There’s no huff, puff, fuss, or mess with them. As long as they’re being treated properly, they just don’t care.
Why humans have difficulty accepting things I just don’t know.
But on the mornings when I start feeling awkward about using my chair, when I start worrying about what people will think regardless of the fact whether it’s their business or not, my cat’s more than willing to be thrilled that I’m using my chair so she can get more hugs.
And that helps. A lot.