Today, April 2, 2012 has been deemed "National Reconciliation Day", a day in which "we" are all being encouraged to embrace forgiveness and try to restore harmony to an injured relationship. Interestingly, when I researched synonyms for "reconciliation", forgiveness did not appear in the list. Rather, words such as settlement and agreement were among the synonyms listed. The dictionary aligns "reconcile" more with one's checkbook than one's relationships.
Someone, somewhere at church yesterday made mention of today being National Reconciliation Day and then, this morning, I read a tiny article about "it" and its significance, which set my head on a thought path about me, my relationships and whether or not reconciliation needed to be on my agenda for the day. There is a "someone" in my past that hurt me deeply and I must admit that my relationship with this person has never been the same but many years have passed and I am certain she is clueless as to the hurt her words caused all those moons ago. After all this time, I feel that it is pointless to broach the subject to her. She wouldn't have any idea about that which I spoke of and telling her would serve no purpose in our present relationship dynamic. This is my deal and maybe I'll be able to forget it in twenty years or so.
After my less-than-positive brushing session with Cranky Kitty this morning, she may feel as if I should have something to say to her on this national day of reconciliation. CK would definitely feel, if she could talk beyond the horrible howling and growling she produced whilst I was brushing her about an hour ago, that a settlement and agreement should be reached between her and I that no further brushing should be allowed.......a settlement and agreement I will never be able to agree with.
For some reason, CK's old coat and skin are working in tandem to produce fur that mats together way too easily and quickly. Last night, I discovered terrible matted areas around her haunches and this was just four days after her last poorly received brushing. I worked as gently as I could on her right haunch this morning and made good progress but my progress was repeatedly interrupted by strong attempts on her part to nail me with her sharp, pointy teeth that are in very good condition for any-age cat. As I type, she is sitting somewhere near me and expressing her still-recent indignation.
To my old, Cranky Kitty: I am deeply sorry that the brushing your coat so desperately needs is so distressing to you but there is little choice here. I am your last great hope. No one else on the face of this earth dares to annoy you without the aid of anesthesia (which, I am told, you are too old for), or thick leather gloves, or a muzzle, or works in either tandem or groups of three to restrain you. I can only annoy you if I have your neck and head firmly in place so you cannot turn with lightning speed that belies your age and leave nasty bite marks in my tender skin.
You can forgive me but we shall not reach a settlement on this matter, hence perhaps, no reconciliation between you and me.
Ancora imparo
