Jordan's A Good Kitty

Why won’t Mama open the door?

I’ve been pawing for half an hour now, standing up on my back legs to run my claws along the wood. The sound of the points digging in, leaving marks and shreds, isn’t enough to make her open up.

I know that Mama is on the other side of that door, laying in her bed with that pink blanket I always hide under when she picks it up. When she lets me in. But that isn't as often as it was anymore.

I stand down from the door and try a different approach, letting out a long wail. “Myaaaaa!!” I sound, but the door knob won't budge. All I get is a huffy laugh and response. Not let in. “What’s up, Jordan?” Mama says my name and she sounds exhausted. I don’t understand how that could be possible. Other than her being out of the house for a long while, she’s been cooped up in that room, only coming out to eat or go to the room with the bath tub.

She knows I'm here–so she did hear me, even when she always has those white things stuffed into her ears. I stand back up on my back legs, continuing to scratch at the door. Mama just laughs, and I'm not sure if it's at me or something from that glowy box she’s always glued to. Always paying more attention to that thing than she is to me. I mean, I don't think that she likes that more than she likes me, right? I’m a good kitty, she used to tell me every day. And while she doesn't do it anymore, not as often at least, I must still be good. She hasn’t called me bad for all that I can remember.

So I don't understand why she won't open the door for me, or why she won't play with the laser toy with me, or why she won't pay any attention to me when I follow her around. Maybe she doesn’t really notice me, just looks my way but doesn't process that I'm right here. Thinking of that, my eyes light up as the door finally opens inward. She wants to let me in! I brush against her leg as I walk into the room, stopping to look back at her. Where is she going? Normally, it's either the chair or on her bed. I want to sit by her!

Mama leaves the room, walking out of it with that glowy box in her hands again. My eyes get smaller, less excited now. I don’t have a reason to be happy, nothing to be excited for. She was just leaving, not exactly letting me in. Oh well, she’s going to come back. While I listen to her go down stairs, I walk over to my usual sitting spot. The chair. It’s so soft with layers of blankets. I jump up onto the blankets and turn myself around a few times, making myself comfortable before I sit back down. I love it here, closing my eyes contentedly.

I know Mama has come back into the room a while later when the door closes. She tries to be soft with it, but I still always hear it. I keep my eyes closed, already half asleep in the chair. I only open them when I hear the sound of her voice and a soft pressure on my head. “Aww, hi, Jordan.” She says. I look up and she’s petting me on the head, cupping between my ears with soft pats. I like the attention, starting to purr softly as her fingers move to the side of my neck, petting the fur there. This is life.

Well, it was until it wasn't. The feeling goes away just as soon as it came and I stop purring. With slim eyes, I watch as Mama walks back over to her bed, getting comfortable there under the pink blanket. I still want to sit by her, jumping over from the chair to her pillow. Like I normally do, I walk over to where her legs are, curling up in the crook there. I lean against them, resting the top of my head behind her knees. I feel her shift, trying to make more room for me so I can be comfortable and again, I start to purr.

I'm always happy with Mama. I've gotten used to the way she doesn't pet me, and how she doesn't play with the laser with me, and how she might not see where I'm at when we walk together. I dont mind as much as i used to anymore, because all i can ask for is to have her. Mama is a good mama. I enjoy spending time with her just like this, simply laying against her side while she stares at a glowy box. At least she’s here, letting me sit by her. Because like i was earlier, normally, i cant spend time with her. She's outside of the house quite often.

I don't know where she goes every morning. But she takes a big bag with her every day and is gone for a while. Then, she drops that off at home and sometimes, she’ll leave again. It's like I don't exist, like I’m not here waiting on her all the time. But then I remind myself of my place and everything is okay. I like to think about how much fun it’ll be when she is finally back and able to pet me. Just thinking of it, now, I want to be a pet again. I lift my head from her knee and look over, trilling in an attempt to get Mama’s attention.

She looks over at me and hums back, like she can't tell what I want for a minute. “What is it, kitty?” She asks. I meow, butting the top of my head against her thigh. Like she had earlier, Mama reaches down and pets me on the head. I quickly start purring again, like I always do. Any gesture of love from her is enough to make me the happiest cat alive. She pets the side of my neck, knowing I like it. “Maow!” I sound. She finally turns the box from a glowy one to a darker one, the light going away before she pulls me over to curl up by her stomach.

There, it must be easier to pet me because I get more lovins. This is the best life I could ever live, I'm convinced. I would spend all nine of them right here. Curled up on a blanket, being pet by my mama, my fur shining with the glow of the lamp at the end of the bed. And yes, I would always deal with being ignored sometimes. Times like this make up for it, they always do. They’re an excuse I willingly make, because if I didn't force my way into her room, I don't think I would be happy. I wouldn't have heard her say “I love you, Jordan.” “Meow!”

And I say it right back.