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Caturday Pootie Diary: Sick time [1]
['This Content Is Not Subject To Review Daily Kos Staff Prior To Publication.']
Date: 2025-04-26
I dragged my tired body into the house, hanging my keys on their hanger just inside the service porch. I looked down and saw the cat staring up at me.
“You’re home!” he cried.
“Yeah,” I said, stepping past him and reaching down with my free hand to tweak the end of his tail. He trotted happily after me, tail straight up in the air, as I walked into the kitchen to set my things down.
A gentle reminder of how we do things: 🐱🐶🐦 Do not troll the diary. If you hate pootie diaries, leave now. No harm, no foul.
Please do share pics of your fur kids! If you have health/behavior issues with your pets, feel free to bring it to the community.
Pooties are cats; Woozles are dogs. Birds... are birds! Peeps are people.
Whatever happens in the outer blog STAYS in the outer blog. If you’re having “issues” with another Kossack, keep it “out there.” This is a place to relax and play; please treat it accordingly. There are some pics we never post: snakes, creepy crawlies, any and all photos that depict or encourage human cruelty toward animals. These are considered “out of bounds” and will not be tolerated. If we alert you to it, please remember that we do have phobic peeps who react strongly to them. If you keep posting banned pics...well then...the Tigress will have to take matters in hand. Or, paw.
“It’s early!” he continued. “Isn’t it early?”
“It’s early,” I confirmed, pouring myself a glass of water and digging through the cabinet where we keep our medicines. I was relieved to find something that would work.
“I like when you come home early,” he said, rubbing his body against the back of my legs. I automatically bent my knees a little to absorb his weight and keep from falling over.
He’s a big cat.
I could hear him purr as I fought to open the package of cold medicine. With a frustrated sigh, I finally opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of kitchen shears.
“Did you come home early to let me sit on you?” he asked.
I paused. “Yes, actually,” I said.
I kicked off my shoes and leaned back in my seat, reaching down to recline it. Freddie was already trying to get in my lap. I laughed. “Give me a second to get settled,” I said.
“We shouldn’t delay,” he insisted.
I gently pushed him off me so I could get the furry blanket down over my legs. I widened my legs and pushed down the blanket to make a space for him.
“This is great,” he said, climbing over my legs and lying down.
I grabbed a tissue from the table next to the couch and sneezed into it a few times. “It could be better,” I said, my head feeling full and fuzzy.
“You and me, sleeping together in the middle of the day,” he continued, happily.
“I feel terrible,” I said.
I searched a streaming service for something to doze off to. Eventually, I landed on a documentary about the Oklahoma City bombing. “Not really relaxing,” I told Freddie, “but hopefully dry enough to let me drift off.”
“Sure,” Freddie said, giving my right thigh a kick with his back legs. I obligingly moved it to give him more room.
“This isn’t really that comfortable for me,” I explained, my ankle already feeling stiff.
He laid his head on his paw and closed his eyes.
“Well, as long as you’re comfortable,” I said, melting at how cute he was. “That’s the main thing.”
I woke up all at once to a silent room. Confused, I looked around. The documentary that I had been watching had ended at some point and the streaming service for once had not simply started another random program. I blinked, sleepy, considering whether or not to turn off the television and go back to sleep, or actually get up and go to my own bed where I’d definitely sleep better.
Freddie lifted his head and blinked up at me.
“You woke up too?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Should we stay here or go upstairs and sleep on the bed?”
“Yeah.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Freddie. Very helpful.”
I gently shook the sleeping cat. “You have to wake up,” I said, softly. “I’m getting up.”
He raised his head and squinted at me, then lowered it again and closed his eyes.
I snorted, then reached to the side of my chair and slowly lowered the footrest on which he was lying. He sat up, stood, and jumped to the ground. “Good boy,” I said. I whipped the blanket off my lap and stood, stretching.
”Good stretch,” Freddie murmured from my feet.
I grinned down at him. “Thank you. Are you going to come upstairs with me?”
"Maybe,” he said, wandering into the kitchen and towards his leftovers from breakfast.
I picked up the box of tissues, my water bottle, and my library book, and headed for the stairs.
I sat up in bed with the pillows propped up behind my back. My book was on my lap, my phone silent and discarded in the sheets beside me. The book was closed, my head a little too achy for reading.
Freddie popped up at the foot of the bed, having snuck in while I was settling in. “There’s the boy!” I cried.
He ambled over to me and bumped his head against my hand. I obliged and petted him.
“It’s early for your bed,” he observed.
“I’m going to nap,” I explained. I don’t usually nap more than a quarter hour or so on the couch, but sickness requires more care.
He studied my face for a moment, then nodded. “You’re finally learning how to sleep. That’s good. It’s safer to nap throughout the day instead of all night.”
“Predators,” I said, wisely.
“Predators,” he agreed.
“I’m still going to sleep all night,” I said, shimmying down to lie on my back. He climbed onto my chest to be petted.
I lifted him carefully and set him beside me. “Sorry, little guy, I’m too sick for that.”
He curled up next to me with only a little pouting and started to purr, the sound pleasant and comforting to my ears as I drifted off.
I picked up my phone and checked the time. Two hours had passed while I napped. I dropped the phone and lay still, assessing my condition.
Nose: still runny.
Head: still achy.
Throat: a little dry, but not really sore.
Chest: clear.
That was something, at least.
I sighed and sat up, looking over at Freddie. He had moved to the foot of the bed and was all curled up, asleep. He looked very content.
I slipped from my bed and straightened my clothes, then headed quietly for the door. I didn’t want to disturb him.
I paused at the bottom of the stairs to blow my nose, wincing a little at how dry and chapped the skin around my nostrils had become. I continued toward the couch to continue my convalescence in front of the television when I heard a noise behind me.
Turning, I saw Freddie stepping off the stairs, yawning. “You should have stayed asleep,” I said.
“Is it dinnertime?” he asked, looking up, hopefully.
I shook my head. “It’s too early,” I said.
He thought about it. “If you can come home early then I can eat early,” he declared.
“Let’s nap first,” I suggested.
He had no objection.
Happy Caturday, Peeps! I am still a bit ill, but getting better every day. And Freddie could not be happier to have more access to my lap.
[END]
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