Cats don’t give up, they’re relentless. There’s a lesson we should learn from them.
Heath and I are sitting in our office – him working on the websites, me editing a chapter – and Tay (our cat) is driving us insane. Not me so much as him, but irritating regardless.
First she tries to get into his lap by reaching up slowly and pawing his right arm. She looks at him with those doughy eyes and waits. He pushes her down. She sits back down behind his chair and appears to be staring off into space, but what she’s really doing is giving him time. Waiting for a moment to see if she tries again he will be more willing the second time. On her second attempt he still rejects her.
Now she weights her options. First she tries to just get herself up there by creeping up under the chair arm, but he pushes her down before she can wedge herself through. So next she crosses behind the chair and attempts to sneak up unnoticed onto the left arm of his chair, but before she can complete the jump she is pushed back down. Heath grunts, “Tay, NO!”
She returns to her starting position and stares at him. I wonder what her next plan of attack is, because I know there is one. Then without any preparation she is suddenly in the air, leaping onto the top of the back of his chair. We’re amazed she can jump that high and chuckle about her resilience. He lets her stay there because she worked so hard for it and at least she’s not in his way.
She has no intention of staying there though, nor is she fit enough to balance on the thin back of the chair. As soon as she thinks Heath’s forgotten she’s there she walks down his chest and into his lap, but before she can get comfortable he pulls her up into his hands. Holding her like a rag doll, her arms bunched up around her cheeks – looking unbearably adorable, he says, “Tay, I’m working little girl,” and sits her on the ground.
She voices her discontent loudly, “Meow!”
We love how talkative she is and we smile imagining what curse word she might have just said to us. We return to our work and she paces behind his chair, plotting. She has no intentions of giving up.
She paws at my arm and I gullibly think she actually wants my attention. Being the sucker that I am I pick her up, but before I can tuck her into my arms she leaps onto my desk and darts across it onto Heath’s. As her paws hit his desk he looks at her annoyed, “Tay, are you serious? Get Down!”
She retreats, but only onto the small table between our desks. I don’t mind her there, but she’s really too big to sit there. She smells a few pieces of paper on Heath’s desk to make it look like she’s not trying to sneak up again and as soon as she thinks he’s not watching she flies onto the desk and lies down in front of the monitor. Her head shrinks back against it waiting for him to yell at her, still hoping he’ll let her stay though.
He doesn’t acknowledge her with words; he simply picks her up and puts her on the ground. He sighs with frustration. She waits again, thinking.
A couple of minutes pass and we think, good she gave up. But then suddenly in as few steps as possible she shoots up onto the small desk between ours and onto Heath’s desk. This time she lies down with arrogance like she’s staying there whether he wants her to or not. Because the obvious attitude in her expression is funny he folds and lets her stay there. He pushes her head down so it’s out of the way and returns to his work.
But the desk was never Tay’s ultimate objective, it was his lap. After a few minutes of her twisting into adorable poses with her paws over her eyes and her furry belly up to the ceiling she is irritated that she still couldn’t grasp his attention. She shoots up off the desk and slithers down into his lap.
Truth is he’d noticed all her little faces and poses on the desk and was weakened by her cuteness so this time he let her stay. He coos at her, “You are too cute Tay,” and she winks her eyes and purrs loud enough for me to hear on the other side of the room.
Completely content for achieving her goal she curls up into a ball in the bend of his knees and drifts to sleep.
Her unwillingness to give up on her goal got me thinking about how easily people give up in life, how people throw themselves pity parties when things aren’t easy for them instead of trudging forward. I hate this.
Nothing that we know today was accomplished by people who didn’t have ambition, who didn’t fight every step of the way to achieve their goal. It seems like there’s not enough people like this anymore. That too much of our society would rather find an excuse for quitting than to persevere. And I think the fact that our country in particular has been on a steady spiral to nowhere it’s time for people to wake up a bit and stop crying about their troubles so much and start doing something about them.
We are capable of achieving far more then we give ourselves credit for. It’s never easy, but it’s always more rewarding that way – when you have to work hard for it. And it’s far more respectable to be headstrong rather than a crybaby.
Just a thought. Time to return to revising my book.
Peace – Sarah
“Hates echo will always find its way back to the ears of those who delivered it. Don’t be hates conduit. Be the wind of love and understanding – each breeze could warm a heart.” – Heath Harris (Epic Savier)