Living with the Shadow

Working from home is not the fun-filled, pajamas all day, coffee fest I had pictured in my head for years. I once dreamed of a time that I could work from the comfort of my own home. Now, 37 days in, I have come to the realization that it would be easier to climb to the top of Mount Everest and camp there for months on end than to work from my house. Why? Well, there is only one word, one name, actually, Shadow.

Shadow, is my cat. We jokingly refer to him as our catdog because he is the perfect combination of long haired Himalayan feline and small, annoying, ankle biting Chihuahua. Around our home, he is referred to by many names: “the king”, “Master”, “Sir Douche”, because in our home, it is literally his world and we simply exist in it. Attempting to get anything accomplished in or around our house is completely dependent upon the location of the cat. Even taking a soak in bathtub is hindered by his unwanted presence. He will sprawl out on the bath mat and wait. Sometimes patiently, other times, staring at you the entire time with a look in his eyes that can only be described as condescending and judgement filled. 

Sitting at my kitchen table, my third relocation of the morning so far, I open my laptop and begin working on my daily report. My job is nothing short of boring to say the least and I firmly believe a small team of well-trained monkeys could probably do it with ease. Just as I enter the final numbers and hit the save button, I hear Shadow making his first entrance of the morning into the kitchen. The jingle of his favorite ball being guided skillfully into the room. I turn my head just in time to watch as he picks up the ball, hooking one of it’s tiny holes in his paw and holding it up to his nose, as if he is inspecting it for flaws. This inspection is quite brief as it is almost simultaneously launched in the air and the chase is on! Around the table, under the chair, the little bell within the ball singing it’s one and only song for the duration of this chase. “Shadow!”, I shout in frustration. He gives me a two second glance and flops onto his side under the table as if to say, “what now?” It may seem crazy to some people but I often have conversations with this animal. I have repeatedly tried to explain to this creature of exasperating energy the importance of me getting work done. I can tell you with certainty, he very simply does.not.care.

Yesterday, for example, I moved seven times in two hours to finish a project that should have taken thirty minutes tops. It is a somewhat sweet thought to think that maybe he just wants to be wherever I am and that it is really just out of pure love and dedication to me that this long-haired, green eyed companion of mine is literally everywhere I want or need to be. It’s a nice thought. Misguided, misinterpreted, misunderstood, but yet, nice just the same. His attempts at getting my attention have gone from subtle, like jumping onto my lap and taking a restful siesta, to just down right frustrating, such as knocking over an entire glass ice water simply because he wanted to play with the ice in the glass. Yesterday, for example, he sprawled himself across the keyboard of my laptop in the brief amount of time it took me to turn my head and pick up a pencil. Once there, he proceeded to paw at my face and make weird little noises, like he was trying to tell me some long kept secret. My attempts at moving him, pleading with him, and ultimately picking him up and placing him back on the floor had resulted in one spilled cup of coffee, an entire notebook lost to the sea of caffeinated bliss I had just poured in my favorite mug which now lay in pieces on the floor. He made no apologies as he yawned ,slowly stretched, his back arched in perfect “downward dog”formation, and proceeded to his food dish.

The adventure that is living with Shadow began three years ago. He had been my daughter’s cat, and when she moved into a new apartment in the city, he came to live with us at our country home. It seemed like the perfect solution at the time. We had plenty of room, he could roam in the large backyard or lay in any number of window seals around the house. We had no other pets, which is also a sticky subject with this cat. He does not care for competition. He firmly believes all attention, back scratches, head rubs or any combination or variation of these forms of affection are to be given to him and only him. Any deviation from this can and will result in what can only be described as a fur flying fight not for the faint of heart. We learned this the hard way when a stray pup found its way into the front yard last spring. We brought the little guy into the house and gave him some food and water. All was well until Shadow came downstairs and began a standoff with the pup. High arched back, long black hair standing straight up, and a hiss that made goose bumps on my arm. Before I could get to the pup, Shadow had him pinned in a corner and as the terrified pup whined and cowered, Shadow glared at him in a way I had only seen a few times in my life, mostly on television and mostly on crime shows. The cold, unwavering stare of your worst nightmare come to life. I did manage to rescue the little pup from what was sure to be a bloody homicide.

To be fair, living with Shadow is not all bad. He can be the sweetest, most loving and affectionate cat around, on his terms. I truly believe he has an unspoken, unwritten set of rules pertaining to his love. As caregivers, we can only figure these rules out as we go and give him love and attention slowly, cautiously, skillfully in an attempt to show him love without unintentionally hitting the “murder” button which is located somewhere around his upper torso, I have learned the hard way.

Yes, working from home may be the blessing of a lifetime for some. For me, I ponder at times where I am blessed to work from home or an unwilling indentured servant to the feline version of Mussolini.