I’ve always loved petting animals. Always.
As long as I can remember, I’ve loved just sitting down with my cat or my dog, beside them or with them on my lap, and just petting and scratching them for 20, 30 minutes at a time.
When I was a kid, I dreamed of my cats being able to sleep with me. When I was even younger, I used to crawl inside my dog’s dog house to hang out with him–his name was Merle and he was a German Shepard–pretty sure I used to try and eat his food with him, too.
Merle was such a good dog. He followed me everywhere. He protected me. He would bark if my mom called him and he was out and about with me because he refused to leave my side, even though he knew he was supposed to come when called.
These days, it’s Coco who gets the longest pats from me. I put her on my chest and she licks my nose for awhile–always the nose, rarely anything else–before snuggling into the crook of my arm and falling asleep. Coops gets the snuggle sessions, too, but he doesn’t do them as long as Coco does. He likes his belly rubbed.
It makes me feel so calm and content. Early on in life, I made it my goal to make the cat or dog fall asleep while I petted them. Still the same goal. It just feels so satisfying to rub them to sleep, and feel their fur in between my fingers, or how they lean into a scratch that feels particularly good.
Not sure why that came to mind tonight, but it did. I love my pets. I spend a lot of time petting them.
Today was my first day back to work, and it was a resounding success. I was able to pick up with my writing right where I left off, and I’m up and running on my next project there.
Great day.
I am exhausted, but satisfied. Daunted with how much work I have to go with my book, but I know that’s just normal “you’ve-been-away-from-it” jitters. Just need to roll up my sleeves and dive in, you know? Of course you do.
Coco is snoring already. Coops is curled up at my feed. Bear is next to me watching funny videos on Insta.
Life is beautiful.