Nobody Puts a Cat in a Corner, Except a Cat

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I am a social human; I like to talk and interact and go and do. My  calendar needs to be filled with events and activities meant to give me a chance to meet new people, hang out with friends and laugh. Yes, laugh. I have a wicked, and some would say warped, sense of humor.

But sometimesI pull the shades down and withdraw into a corner. When I do, people don’t like it much because they want the fun JB, the one who is always doing her best to make others feel good about themselves.

HC, much like me, goes into her quiet spot every now and then, retreating to the corner of the living room, behind the end table. When she does this, I always have to check and make sure she’s not sick.  I  proceed to irritate her by talking to her, checking her breathing, etc. She’s physically fine. She just wants to be alone in her own thoughts and in her own space.

Nobody can put a cat in a corner. They go there because they want to. I’d like to be more catlike and say that nobody can put me in a corner either but the truth is that they can and have. I normally don’t stay there too long, but recently I’ve remained in that quiet place far longer than normal.

I’ve given a lot of myself, great chunks and pieces, to people, places and things over time. When I care about someone or something, I care deeply. It’s easy to get me to care; I was born caring. It’s hard to get me not to, in fact.

HC senses I’ve been in my own corner this fall. She shows it by clinging to me like velcro; taking every step I take; and meowing loudly for me when I disappear from her sight for a long period of time.

It’s her way of saying, “get back out there Mom.” That corner needs to start growing cobwebs again.

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