I don’t know how to explain my cat’s curious sweet friendship with our concrete Buddha.
Isis loves the sound of the bell. When she hears the sound of the bell signaling the beginning of our morning sitting, she comes into the room already purring. She begins by rubbing up against my husband John and me, each of us in turn, sometimes putting her paws on my chest and bringing her nose right up to my mouth just close enough that I can feel the soft fuzz of her chin.
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I don’t know how to explain my cat’s curious sweet friendship with our concrete Buddha.
Isis loves the sound of the bell. When she hears the sound of the bell signaling the beginning of our morning sitting, she comes into the room already purring. She begins by rubbing up against my husband John and me, each of us in turn, sometimes putting her paws on my chest and bringing her nose right up to my mouth just close enough that I can feel the soft fuzz of her chin. Then she settles in front of me, conforming her body to the fold of my legs. She does not stir until the sound of the small bell and we move to stand up.
When Bill Menza, True Shore of Understanding, came to visit last spring, he brought a lovely Buddha statue for our yard. I was astonished to watch Isis exhibit the same behavior with the statue. The first time I let her outside, she ran right to the statue as though greeting an old friend.
It has become a regular ritual. She rubs her body all over the Buddha, brings her nose right to his mouth as though savoring his breath, and eventually climbs into his lap or drapes her paws over his legs. I have even seen her pat his face affectionately with her paw.
— Emily Whittle
