Occasional Scribbles

Skinny lies curled up in the arm chair beside mine.  She is bored.  It’s raining.  We are both bored.  I steal a sideways glance at her and see she is yet again quietly demolishing the corner of one of the cushions.  She does this when she is bored, bored of her toys and when there are no new bones forthcoming or when it’s raining.  Sometimes she does it to annoy me, sometimes she does it absent mindedly.  The corner of the cushion is a bit like the ‘blanky’ the Teen had when he was little.  He would fold the silk lining very carefully and with much concentration into a point and then gently rub it over his cheek and ears.  Other times he would run the silken edging along his nose which made him sleepy.  His eyes would start to glaze until eventually they would roll back into his head and he’d be out for the count.  The cushion has a similar soporific effect on Skinny.  I frown at her in an exagerated way and she looks back at me without expression.  I try winking at her just to see if she winks back.  She tries but at the last minute the other eye closes too.  Winking isn’t her strong point.

She starts on the cushion again, bored with my attempt at an indoor game.  She gently sucks on the chewed edge for a while then surveys her handiwork.  She is feeling sleepy now, eyes half shut, head lolling against the arm of the chair.  She sleeps.  I have to be very quiet now, no sudden noises or movement or she will jerk awake and wrongly think I am taking her for a walk.  I AM NOT. Yet.