My roommate's cat has a heart of gold. His name is Saul and he may meow a lot and walk on my chest, never mind the fact that he's thirteen pounds and much too big for that. He may also dig his claws into my skin when he kneads his before bed ritual, but despite these minor annoyances, the cat doesn't have an unkind bone in his body.
When my cat, Icarus, was seriously injured, I had to leave her overnight at the vet. I spent all of my time away from her neglecting myself, dwelling on what could have gone differently had I secured the room for her safety. I forgot to eat, to sleep, sometimes I even forgot to breathe.
Still, in the early hours of the morning, when I was fighting off my anxieties and trying desperately to get some sleep, Saul was there to lend a helping paw. He waddled straight to my pillow and plopped his fat butt down, purring all the while. I looked into his eyes and he closed them, just a bit, as if assure me that everything was going to me okay. I wrapped my arm around him, cuddled him close to my chest, and the purring intensified.
Even after Icarus came home, dazed and confused with the cone over her head, Saul continued to stick by my side. While I forgot myself taking care of Icarus, he was there to remind me to eat, to sleep, and most importantly, to breathe. My heart raced in my chest at the thought of losing her, but again, he simply laid against my chest and started kneading.
When Icarus couldn't lick herself, she was devastated. She'd spend hours licking the inside of her cone with a leg raised, pretending to clean herself. She only had to wear the cone for a week but her fur quickly became dirty and unkempt. Saul, being the gift from God he is, decided it was time to step up to the plate once more. For the next week he not only took care of me, but Icarus as well.
When Icarus couldn't clean herself like she wanted to, Saul did it for her. Whenever she started licking at her cone, he knew that it was time for him to help. He'd spend long stretches of time just licking her up and down, from the pads of her feet to her tail. When she had an itch, he'd be there to gently nibble her neck until the itch subsided. At night time Icarus would sleep tucked against my side and Saul would sleep on the other side of her, as if protecting her.
Even as Icarus began to heal and I slowly pieced my life back together after the shock of almost losing my cat, Saul was still ready to help. There were days when I'd forget to reward him with a treat, but he'd still go about his routine of taking care of us. It's been a few weeks since Icarus healed, and he's still hovering over us like a mother, ready to lick our wounds and give a loud purr to soothe our nerves.
