Today, my mood was
sufficiently lightened by an exceptionally well-behaved dog on the bus.
He was so quiet I hadn’t even
realised he was there, despite being right next to me. His owner was on his mobile for the duration of the journey, but played with his dog’s ears and
gave him a general fuss throughout; he clearly doted on him. It was just the
thing to see on a dreary day.
It never ceases to surprise
me how much animals lift my mood, almost instantly. Even now as I write, my
cat’s having a scratch and a stretch on my lap, having been there for hours. She’s such good company, particularly when I’m writing; she'll occasionally look at me strangely as I talk through my material,
but having her there makes it feel less like work; they should put pets on the
National Health.
My cat knows my wife’s and my
daily routine inside out, often picking up on signals we're barely aware we're
giving. She’s an expert on what we do and always wakes up a few minutes before
my wife gets home or heads into the kitchen for her morning treat when I’m
grinding coffee first-thing; if they had a ‘You Bet!’ for animals, our life
would be her specialist subject, though I can’t imagine it would make for good TV for the layman.
I like that she’s so relaxed
in my company she can just get on with a wash on my lap - which she's doing as we speak - or fall asleep for hours, safe in the knowledge that nothing bad will
happen; it’s very sweet. There’s nothing more rewarding than having a pet to
talk to; if I sound like a mad cat-lady, then so be it.