Thwap, thwap, thwap, thwap, thwap—never another, always with the five thwaps.
It’s a reset to stop the clinging. With her head shaking and ears readjusting, Ellie is like a lady poufing out her skirt after being seated too long or a man doing that grab ‘n pull on creases of his dress slacks when standing for the closing prayer in a church service.
After compressing her ear flaps into a crevice near the arm of the couch, the leather loveseat, or any other of her chosen nighttime venues, poufing of the ears is necessary.
When she gets up, the only sound is the click of her claws on the hardwood floors or the soft threads she rakes her paws across on the living room rug. First, she stretches, sometimes yawning. Then comes the obligatory stroll down the hall. She goes into full thwapping mode about three strides before getting to my bedroom door.
It’s loud, and it almost sounds painful—the resetting of the ears.
Then, like a mother checking on her child, she stands in my doorway—backlit by a nightlight down the hall—hopeful that the thwapping has brought me around to consider a trip outside and a chaser of kibble and fresh water.
Then it’s my turn. If I want ten more minutes of rest, I have a standard slogan, “It’s time to lie down.” Oh, I might say, “Good morning, Ellie.” That starts the tail; once that kicks off, there is no stopping it.
If I ask her to lie down, she walks to her soft bed over by the closet and thumps down, huffing out an exasperated groan fueled by minor joint pain and frustration that all the drama was all for naught.
I have to give her credit; that’s all I have to say to get a little more sleep. She makes no other noises unless I stay in bed too long and she happens to catch a glimpse of the sunrise in one of the bedroom windows. But I rarely make her wait until the sun shows up. I typically only need a few minutes to contemplate what a waste of time it is to stay in bed past a quarter of four.
Thwap, thwap, thwap, thwap, thwap—never another, always with the five thwaps.
If she can rise, I can, too. It’s the shining that takes effort.
From the Jagged Edge of America, we remain,
TC & Ellie