He is actually more than happy, he seems to be living in some state of feline bliss I’ve never seen before.
He is just full of joy.
It’s annoying as hell.
This was not always the case for Chester…not when I found him.
When I found him he was an anonymous stray plaintively wailing from behind some bushes.
I would set food out for him,but he wouldn’t eat until I left.
He was terrified of people…he was terrified, period.
Over time, I befriended him and he learned to trust.
He learned to allow himself to be petted and cared for.
He learned how to live in acceptance.
Now, he is still loud, but it’s the cat version of the song of the redeemed.
If he can’t be on my lap, he’s laying at my feet, occasionally rolling and stretching and being as happy as if he had good sense.
His life has changed, he has a new master, and he’s very, very, grateful.
Miss Kitty and I wish he’d get over it.
We matured and got over this joy business a long time ago.
We prefer to live quiet lives of slight discontent where the best one can hope for isn’t hoped for anymore.
We vaguely remember what it was like to be strays, but the past is the past.
We consider it our version of joy when we’re not as unhappy as we could be…a tolerable level of unhappiness is the standard now.
Chester’s excitement and extreme gratitude are embarrassing and uncomfortable, especially when he wants us to participate in both with him.
Thankfully, we know that this will pass.
The joy will diminish, the gratitude will fade, and he’ll join us in living in quiet drudgery.
He’ll forget where I found him and where he is now will be considered what he deserves.
It will soon cease to be enough…and he will be as unsatisfied then as he is satisfied now.
It happens to all of us…doesn’t it?
Make your own application…