Nary a word...

There are some things about which Myrtle is fairly tolerant.  Kisses, for example.  I like to give them and she likes to receive them.  Whenever Myrtle comes home from her appointments, I like to greet her with many kisses upon her return.  When I return from doing my business out of doors, I like to give a few kisses once I am back with Myrtle.  When I crawl in Myrtle's lap, I like to shower Myrtle with kisses before dropping off to sleep for a nap or two or three.  When Myrtle awakes at night and leaves the bed, I like to greet her with kisses upon her return as I do at the front door.  When I awake at night and move to curl up on her shoulder, I like to cover her with a few kisses before dropping off to sleep once more.  Frankly, in my opinion, there is never a bad time for a few kisses...even more than a few.  Mostly, Myrtle agrees with me and allows me to express my affection for her.  Though, sometimes in the middle of the night, she cries out, "Enough!" and begs me a bit to settle back down so we can both get some rest.

As I have noted, there are also many, many, many, many, many things in my life about which Myrtle is absolutely intolerant.  For example, after weeks and weeks and weeks of proper disposition of my deposits, I took use of the basement floor when the need arose.  The basement floor is exactly like the sidewalks and streets out of doors where I have free reign to conduct my business.  So, I ask you, "Ought not the basement also to be an acceptable location?"

Myrtle says most emphatically, "No!"

However, there are some things about which Myrtle says nary a word. With them, she is complete mercy and grace.  Chief among them is my utter love for the beds in the sunshine room (the one Myrtle calls the solarium).  I just love them.  Love, love, love, love them!

Whenever Myrtle is getting ready for bed, I cannot resist the urge to sneak over to them and jump up.  The room is so peaceful.  I like to look out the windows, even at night. I like to hop from bed to bed.  I like to curl up for a nap with all the sunlight that never ends shining down upon me.  Truly, it is a marvelous place.  However, sadly, once up on the beds, I cannot get down.  You see, the floors are wood and leaping down from such a height without soft carpet to cushion my landing is too frightening for me.  I am trapped, each and every time.

No matter how many times I find myself trapped on a bed in my beloved sunshine room, Myrtle comes and rescues me.  She comes even if it is twice or more in the same evening.  The smallest whimper will reach her, and when she is able, Myrtle will come chuckle at the sight of me, gather me in her arms, bury her face in my curly hair, and whisper sweet nothings to me before giving a few kisses of her own.  No yelling at me for interrupting her.  No lecturing about getting myself in situations out of which I cannot get.  No sighing deeply over a perceived misbehavior on my part.  No reminding me that she has already rescued me that evening.  Just love.  Just love and grace and mercy.  Each and every time Myrtle rescues me.


This is my life with Myrtle.  Amos Adams signing off!