Some Decisions Are Tougher Than Others

Dobby walks through the empty sewing room, makes a pit stop at his litter box, continuing through the darkened kitchen and into the living room. The ginger tabby sees nothing but he hears Mom's voice in a far corner. It is muffled and slightly stressed.

“Mom, mo-o-o-om!” Dobby calls out continuing cautiously through the room ready pull Mom out of whatever hole she has found herself in.

“Over here kitty.” Mom calls. Her voice sounds like she is right in front of him. All he sees is a whole lot of books. “It's okay Dobby. I'm right here.” A hand finds its way out from under the book pile. Dobby approaches the hand cautiously, takes a sniff and recognizing the hand as belonging to Mom rubs his face against it. Mom scratches his chin for him then Dobby's ear when it comes within reach. Dobby quickly finds himself contemplating a nap, his own purrs of contentment starting to lull him to sleep. “What do you need kitty?”

“ 'The blog'  you are going to be late writing the blog Mom.” Dobby purrs.

“You know what? I guess it's going to be late. I'm having issues here.” Mom responds tartly.

Dobby hides his mouth with his paw. “The temperature just got colder. Talk about zero to *itch. Run...while you still can.”

“What did you just say? Who are you talking to?” Mom snaps at Dobby.

“No one.” Dobby stands on two legs looking at the readers he waves at them to leave. “Seriously. Go. Now.”

“What are you doing anyway?” Dobby asks Mom taking a step back. Just in case.

“I need a book to read.”

“Just pick something.”

“Dobby, being a cat you can't possibly understand the importance of such a decision. Reading is an important part of my life. I read a lot before bed. I don't like reading too many books by the same author in a row. It can't be too scary when you are behind on your sleep. It can't be too sexy or an intense page turner if you can't stay up late and read. Nothing too depressing in the darkest of winter. Seriously kitty, you don't just pick something!”

“Yes Mom. You do. It's a book. If you pick the wrong thing, you put it down and pick up a different one.”

“Maybe I should have had that attitude when I brought you home.”

Dobby approaches the pile of books covering Mom and sniffs closely. Okay this one smells good. Feels good too. Dobby says rubbing his face against it. Dobby pushes the book he chose with his nose towards Mom's hand. “How about this one?” Dobby asks. Mom's hand grabs the book. The book disappears into the darkness.

“I already read that one. It was a good book though.” Mom calls out from under her shelter.

The good ones smell good to me. Dobby pushes another good smeller to Mom's hand. The book disappears, “What! I told you last week this one sucked! Very funny Dobby! I'm never going to get out from under this mess.”

Dobby rolls his eyes. “Mom? Do you make every decision this hard?”

“No?” Mom answers quietly. “Yes...wait a minute...No.”

Dobby taps the end of his tail on the floor.

“Some decisions are tougher than others.”

“Mom you are spending Saturday night stuck under a pile of books so deep that I can't even see you.”

“I would like to stress my previous comment. Some decisions are tougher than others.”

Dobby finds another one that smells good. “Okay Mom, this is the last one I'm sending back. How about this one?”

Mom's hand grabs the book and pulls it into the literary abyss. “Oh...I bought this one at a garage sale a couple of years ago. I forgot I even had it! I can't wait to read it. Good job kitty.” Mom sneezes from her hole. “My eyes are burning from the dust.”

The search continues...