Servant

Sometimes, I forget to sit in my body and feel it all in the morning, aches of arthritis fading with all my stretching and the hope for a blue pill, gory dreams fading (please fade), hunger whispering quietly, my eyes still tender to light. Cat demands begin before I’ve eaten, before coffee, before I’ve relieved my bladder. “Mrawr, mrawr. Rarrrr!”

Why is it that I can’t take care of myself before I take care of them?

I am servant. My needs come second. I am peasant. They are entitled to food. I recall, barely, that I put kibbles into Blitz’s food puzzle sometime between 2:30 and 4:00 am when I got up to pee. Seriously? Yes, that is a memory, not a dream. Then, the little bastard had the temerity to stomp across my legs between 5:00 and 8:00 am. Second breakfast! Rrarwr!

I am reminded that I am servant, aches waiting for morning pharmaceuticals, gut grumbling for toast and coffee, eyes still not wanting summer’s bright light. I am servant. Always servant. Servant first, human second. Are you also servant too?

Thank you for listening, jules