Who Is Mistral Dawn?

Mistral Dawn is a thirty-something gal who has lived on both coasts of the US but somehow never in the middle. She currently resides in the Southeast US with her kitty cats (please spay or neuter! :-)) where she works as a hospital drudge and attends graduate school. Taken By The Huntsman is her first effort at writing fiction and if it is well received she has ideas for several more novels and short-stories in this series. Please feel free to visit her on FaceBook or drop her a line at mistralkdawn@gmail.com

Sunday, January 17, 2016

Who #Decided #ToGo For A #Swim?

Hey Everyone! :-)

I wanted to share a thought that occurred to me today.  I got out of the bath this morning and, like always, I flipped the lever on the drain to let the water out and went to get dressed.  My cats find the process of draining water to be fascinating, so they stayed behind to supervise.  Suddenly, I heard claws scrabbling on a hard surface, a splash, and a howl of protest, so I went to see what had happened.  One of my cats, Squeaky, had fallen into the bathtub.

Yes, that's him above, waving at you.  And before anyone sends me hateful emails, he's perfectly fine.  He only fell from the rim of the tub into the tub, and it's a standard bathtub, so it was a fall of about 4-5 inches.  Yes, I checked just to make sure, he's fine.  Though, he was a bit disgruntled...okay, a lot disgruntled.

Squeaky is no longer the svelte teenager you see in the picture above.  He's going to be twelve this year and is getting a little creaky along with being rather squeaky.  Aren't we all?  Poor baby, he's gotten a bit stout as well, and he no longer has the perfect balance and lightning reflexes of his youth.  Who among us does?  So, he lost his balance while playing with the water and fell in.  And he was not happy!

As you may have guessed, Squeaky came by his name honestly.  And he wasted no time in letting me know just how unsatisfactory the service is around here, even after I toweled him dry.  In fact, he was still expounding on his dissatisfaction half an hour later.  At that point, I had heard enough from the peanut gallery and I told him it was his own fault.  After all, I'm not the one who told him to go for a swim!

He grumbled a bit more at that, and then went off to sulk on the bed.  Because I obviously just don't understand the trials and tribulations of the kitty set.  And that's when it occurred to me to ask, how often do I do the same thing?  If you ask any of my friends, they could testify to the fact that I'm not one to let any upset or annoyance go without complaint.  In fact, even I feel like I should offer myself some cheese with my whine sometimes.  But how often do I bring my troubles on myself?

If I'm honest, I have to admit that it's pretty often.  I'd have to say that at least 70-75% of the time, my difficulties are of my own making.  And yet, then I waste even more time kvetching about them.  I think there's a lesson to be learned there, and I have my cat to thank for teaching it to me.  Wouldn't it be more productive to think things through better from the beginning?  After all, it's pretty silly to complain about being wet, when I'm the one who decided to go for a swim.  Isn't it?  Something to work on.

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