Not all fruit can be low-hanging. Nor should it be.
We all love the lazy-easy peaches that droop as pendulous as planets, heavy with sweetness and easy to pluck. But sometimes that tree is well worth the climb for the treasure in the leaves.
I am, of course, talking about cats.
The Perseid meteor showers peaked early this week. If you’re a sky-watcher giant shameless nerd like me, you were all a-quiver over the promise of 50-90 shooting stars an hour. Shameless as you are, you dashed out into your garden in your pajamas and sneakers at 3 am for 3 nights in a row just to stare into the sky. Your pajamas were yellow with frogs on them. Or maybe that’s just me.
But before we get too far afield here: the Perseids are a sparkling case of small things that are really big. Technically not stars at all, these meteors are little specks of ice and dust from the Comet Swift-Tuttle. The largest ones are marble-sized, with most of their cousins in the grain-of-sand range. And although NASA tempts us with talk of a skyfull of sparklers, you have to look and wait and watch and shiver in your skivvies if you really want to see some meteor action.
Be it known: it’s worth it.
Buddy is the daintiest little soul in Suite FIV. Granted, that’s not saying much. (Along the lines of, “Uncle Sy is the most elegant member of the Duck Dynasty family.”) But in this land of titans and lumbering lads, Buddy stands out. Delicately built, with a pointy white face and ponderous green eyes, Buddy looks almost kittenlike among such big lovable lugs as Newman and Bo.
But it’s Buddy’s personality that’s the real standout.
Suite FIV is a good destination for your ego. Even if your feet smell like cheese and your heart’s an empty hole, when you walk into Suite FIV, you will be assaulted by love as 400 8 cats mob you, all but swooning, OH MY GOSH YOU ARE HERE WE HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE AMAZING AND WE LOVE YOU OH MY GOSH!!!! Resistance is futile. You will love them. They will love you. If you attempt to sit down, your lap will strain under the weight of 400 8 cats. If you kneel somewhere, at least two cats will nestle in the bend of your knees.
You are seriously wanted here.
But up on the ramp — at the top of the tree, in the far starry reaches of the sky — Buddy watches you, wondering, waiting, pondering.
I’ll give you a tip: climb the tree. Gaze into the telescope. Offer your hand to the cat who doesn’t seem quite sure if he wants it.
He may not come down — not right away, at least. He may examine your hand for a long, long time. And he may even shrink back if Dre is too assertive in telling you that what you really need is a Doctor.
But keep climbing. Gaze on. And your patience will be rewarded.
Like a meteor streaking across the sky, all of a sudden Buddy will drape his chin over your palm. The rubbing begins. Those ponderous green eyes close in rapture.
You’re in. You’re trusted. Buddy will not forget your kindness — next time you visit, he’ll warm a little faster, seek you a little sooner, and let you love him a little more lavishly. And all because you just…kept…waiting.
Low-hanging fruit is delicious. But when you climb high enough, you can see the stars.
Photo credits: LiveScience, volunteer Jess x 2, Flangela.