My Old Man

‘My old man’ is the best in the whole wide world, and, although I am still very young to realize things, I honestly can’t remember a day when he wasn’t there for me.  You see I lost my mom when I was younger, and to this day I have only ever known one parent. I guess you could say I’ve lived a sheltered life, with only a few friends scattered here and there in our neighbourhood.  My best friend “Tom” died some years ago and since then, I’ve been ‘more or less’ a loner.  It might even be said, “Nowadays I prefer my dads company to anyone else.”  I trust him implicitly with my life as no one else will do it for me!

Oh there have been times when I’ve came home all dirty and scruffy looking, but that’s because I’d been playing on wet soil and forgot to watch where I put my paws, resulting in an accident with the ground, as I like to call it.  My dad would see me coming and enter the house, and then he’d whisk me off to the wash basin, where my reward was a wet, soggy, soapy sponge.  I absolutely hated that, but the best part was being rubbed down with a nice warm soft dry towel, which to me, was sheer ecstasy.  Ooh, how that towel made me happy!

Over the past thirteen, almost fourteen years, my dad has taken real good care of me, better than most responsible parents could have, and I’ve wanted for nothing, yet I don't feel spoiled! If my dinner wasn’t to my liking, I’d tell him.  He would then replace it with something else, resulting in two choices for yours truly, which, in my opinion, was “the business.”  After all, if my dad can have a dinner and a sweet, why shouldn’t I have a similar choice, it’s only right and proper, if you see my point!

Of course there have been times when I’ve returned home hurt and crying.  Again, my old man was there, waiting, waiting to see what I had done, or where I’d injured myself.  Sometimes the injury was so minor that all I needed was a pick me up in the shape of a quick wound clean, and, lots of TLC, or tender loving care.  Take it from me; TLC from my old man is the best.  He would take me into the living room by the fire and place me on his lap.  Then with one hand near my injury, his other hand would hold me in place to prevent me from falling.  On these occasions the heat from my dad’s hands was amazing.  I’ve never felt so much heat.  It warms you up from the inside out then sends you into a sound, peaceful sleep.  A little while later, I’d wake up and feel a hundred percent better, with little or no pain at all.  How my dad did this I do not know, but I am grateful that he could.

Naturally, there have been times when I haven’t been quite so lucky!  On those occasions my old man would put in me in the car and drive yours truly straight to the doctor’s for medical attention, but, all I can say about that is, even with a few major mishaps, I’ve come through smelling like roses!  And, it’s all down to him and his caring attitude towards me.  I couldn’t wish for a better person in my life!

Well, in concluding my little story, I feel it’s only fair to mention, finally, that I have an age disorder.  In other words, I age fast!  In your terms I am thirteen years old, in mine I am about eighty years of age, actually older than my old man!  

So, if you haven’t guessed it by now, my name is Mystic, and I am, my old man’s, cat!

Now, I'm open to further offerings from feminine felines, preferably ginger ones, but if none are interested, that's OK.  A bowl of kitty-bits will do, perhaps even tuna fish in brine, if not; thanks for reading: now, kiss my furry butt!