THE CAT'S PERSPECTIVE OF READING, WRITING AND LIFE.: The bountiful freedom of owning Less.

The Freedom Of Letting Go

~~Judy Howard~~

Sportster

Six months ago I let go. Mom sold off my hippopotamus tunnel, the one I could crawl inside and peek out his butt…yet I never did. She got rid of most all my toys, the rubber mouse, the spider that bounced, and the sock with catnip that didn’t smell like cat nip. She gave away my food and water dishes.

Freedom is letting go, but I freaked when I saw my treasures on the auction block. I love my stuff. I may not have played with everything but my things comforted me. I slept contentedly, purring loudly, believing the possessions around me were evidence Mom loved me. When people who came to visit, I impressed them with my multitude of belongings, convincing them of my importance.

All of that is gone now. I kept my favorite clothes -- my Harley jacket and skull cap, my Hearst Castle T-shirt that matches Mom's, and my assortment of holiday bandannas, all of which Mom stowed away, out of sight, in the motor home.

So what do I have now?

Not much. My tiger bed, my Harley Davidson mouse and a small puddle of toys.A small,compact food and water dish remains, but at least it's chrome.

Yet, now I have so much more.

These days I enjoy ongoing adventures. For the past six happening months on the road, I've traveled nine cat nippin’ states! I don't want to ever quit prowling!

What I have now stretches out across the black asphalt ahead, promising infinite experiences yet to come. My tail twitches at the immensity of the concept.

I have fallen asleep under Oregon stars while recalling chasing chipmunks and squirrels as the images of the sea gulls swooping across the beaches dance in my head.

I’ve swished my tail with the excitement of prowling the plains of South Dakota , sniffing exotic scents left behind by the roaming antelope and buffalo.

In every state I’ve taunted protesting ravens, more than I can count, who hate my presence. But after a fun filled day of aggravating them, I’ve also dozed off, listening to the songs of Montana’s Meadowlarks.

Thunder clouds hypnotize me. They call my name.

The soft rumble of the motor home's tires lull into a happy contented mood.

The best part of my day?

The thrill of pulling into a campground, a national park, truck stop or Walmart. It doesn’t matter where.
Wherever we spend the night my new home promises surprising adventures, new sights and smells, and new people with their pets. I'll study the river rushing past my door ....