Lazy is As Lazy Does

I've said more times than I care to recollect that "When I die I'm coming back as a house cat." And I mean it. There are moments when I look at their fat, peaceful, lazy, slovenly, sloppy lives and want to push them off of whatever they're laying on so that I can stop wishing I had their life for one gosh darn second! Even as I'm typing this, my two lazy beasts of burden are snuggling in the chair next to me. Their names are Hemilaya and Jack-Jack. They're beautiful, handsome tabby boys. Both have a very sweet and peaceful nature. They're patient with the children, with us, and even with our enormous dogs. Jack-Jack especially. He lets Beauregard, the giant Weimaraner smother him, bite his neck and lay all over him while they nap on my husband's lap. I can't decide if it's because he's so sweet or if it's because he's so lazy. Hemilaya (the one curled up in the picture above) is fickle and a little temperamental. Every irritation he feels shows up on his face and in his voice. He doesn't hesitate to complain when you're not doing something fast enough. If he wants food, love or to be let outside you'd better be Johnny-on-the-spot or else your ears will suffer. I can't help but find the amusement in our entire family's willingness to appease these grossly obese creatures. They serve no great purpose although they do capture the occasional mole or mouse. They're hopelessly lazy and their fur gets on everything (especially clean clothes and bed sheets because they immediately lay on anything that's just come out of the dryer). They whine and cry if they don't get their way and we've spent countless amounts of money on them because they were too stupid not to get their paws caught in a dog's mouth. But somehow, in some form our lives wouldn't be the same without them. They bring joy and humor to our little world and they serve as a constant reminder that I wish I believed in reincarnation.