And now, forgive me, I must expend a few words to parsing the difference between the way most human beings react to a big messy expulsion of vomitus, and the way my cat Gilbert does.
Gilbert, being a long-haired cat with a delicate stomach — albeit one whose almost daily massive BLEEAAAURGS do not seem to impact his energy level all that much — is an old hand at this, the most prolific vomiter in the house. (We have only one other, Uma; the other two being largely conscientious objectors.)
When a human being vomits, that human being usually reacts with horror and consternation. We are UPSET that we just vomited. We are shaken and even if what we just expelled leaves us feeling some relief, it is some time before we will cop to feeling a hundred percent again. Really, for one of us, a vomit can be a day-ruining experience.
Gilbert, by contrast, is not only familiar with this process but more or less inured.
It’s hard not to feel for him in the midst of the act, his stomach heaving, his tongue protruding, his whole body wracked with the effort of bringing the unwanted forth. But once it bursts from him in great quantity, he shakes his head as if to remark that, yes, this was a rough one, then determines that he is done, and happily, I tell you happily, trots off. The vomit itself is left as an exercise for Daddy. But beyond that, he is determined not to let this repellent and unpleasant development ruin his enjoyment of life. There are too many other joys to explore. Really: that happy trot speaks volumes. I just vomited, but now it’s over. And what’s next?
I envy Gilbert his resilience, and admire his attitude.
I offer his example to all of you, as today’s pressing and timely advice.
Comment By: Erika
January 20th, 2017 at 11:46 am
Thank you, sir!
Our cat Phoenix is similar in her barfitude. I had never looked at it from your perspective, in part because I usually awkwardly find the results of the act after the fact. (Last week my husband told me that our 2 year old daughter needed new PJs because she had stepped in cat barf. “Cabarf! Cabarf!” She confirmed.)
I will look anew at my cat and her fortitude and appreciate her grace and ability to move on with dignity and a dignified joie de vivre.
And perhaps I shall joyfully shout “Cabarf! Cabarf!” whenever I look at our current political “leader.”