Beauty cannot guarantee an easy life.
Goodness may have to walk the rough road.
But if you are brave enough to be bananas, it will all smooth out in the end.
Smoothie seemed to have all the right ingredients.
She is as graceful as a grapevine and soft as a summer plum. She is so sweet, she makes honeydew look like horseradish. You might say she is “a peach,” but there is no hard seed at her center, only a glow-in-the-dark heart. She is the Siamese equivalent of strawberry ice cream.
But Smoothie has spent years in the blender.
I’m telling you this, because Smoothie will never mention it herself. She would much rather talk about you. Her eyes glitter like wild blueberries at the very sight of you.
Now is the moment that matters. You are here, and that’s better than breakfast. You make this old cat feel like a May morning. You melt any memory of ice. The whirling has stopped.
Who would talk about rough times at a time like this?
Do you see kidney disease, or the stainless steel bars from the years in a shelter cage? Or do you just see one cat, radiant as rainbow sherbet, ageless as affection?
She is meowing because it is a new day, and rumor has it she will get another one tomorrow.
Does anyone else realize how bananas that is?
No, Smoothie will not let you gulp down sadness. There are no chips on her little coconut shoulders. There are no vitamins in the past.
Everything interesting is here, now.
For instance, are you aware that chia seeds, mixed into squeeze-treats, will treat a cat’s hypercalcemia (elevated blood calcium)? Is that not hilarious?
The same seeds that put green hair on your Bob Ross figurine are improving Smoothie’s health. Is the world not a slaphappy, splendorous place?
And while we’re at it, have you seen this Lobby? The floor is as level as a lingonberry pancake. That means everyone is equal. That means everyone is important.
Bello is important. Hips is important. Most importantly, they recognize one tiny white cat’s importance and act accordingly.
Age is irrelevant. Continence is of no consequence. Kidneys are magic beans that make you more precious.
No silly kidneys, no squeeze-chia. No dark night, no glorious morning.
But Smoothie does not mean to bring up the darkness. Smoothie would rather draw your attention to the bananas.
She is not referring to Hips and Bello, although that would be a reasonable assumption. Smoothie is referring to the secret snacks that sustained her, back when everything was spinning.
You have to be a little bit “bananas” to believe you will someday be received, just as you are.
You must be abundantly “bananas” to stare through cage bars until you see yourself in someone’s arms.
Only the boldly “bananas” expect rocky soil to yield a harvest of happiness.
Smoothie was so severely “bananas,” she stayed sweet.
Alright, so the former years were gritty. They are gone. The latter years are honey-gold, and a certain Siamese sits at the head of love’s table.
It’s all bananas, even slaphappy.
Please RSVP to this new morning. Your presence is requested at breakfast.
Worrisome PS: Our unsinkable Smoothie developed some distressing symptoms. She endured two seizures, but recovered uneventfully, thanks to the tender care of our vet team. We fear a brain tumor, but at Smoothie’s age, we are not going to put her through invasive diagnostics. Please keep Earth’s sweetest strawberry in your prayers, and donate to Remember the Seniors if you are able. We are bananas for our Smoothie, and we need her for a long time to come.
