I've posted about our cat Cindi before, and about our morning ritual. It was such a sweet start to our day to sit on the floor brushing and adoring her while she danced and pranced around for us to admire her. We delighted in being with a critter we love and are excited to see. There was an innocence to the whole experience... until recently. Here's what happened.
We discovered our cat loves liver. We started feeding our cat liver at the end of our morning ritual. It only took a few days for us to notice that the addition of liver changed the whole morning dynamic. Suddenly, Cindi seemed uninterested in being adored. She didn't seem so glad to see us anymore. Her parading about appeared mechanical. The morning ritual became all about... liver.
Oh, she still goes through the motions. She'll rub against something, take her bows, lick her lips and look up to the counter where we keep her liver. Perhaps we're projecting, but it sure seems to us that she's saying, "Was that enough? Have I earned my liver? Is it time yet?"
Innocence has been lost in Cat-ville. Love was tainted by a goal.
Where have you experienced that before?
Have you ever had a job you loved that became a means to an end until the life got squeezed out of your labors?
Have you ever found that the big adrenaline quest has rendered you unable to enjoy simple sweetness?
Has something that once was beautiful in its own right ever been turned into a means to an end, and you started going through the motions?
The liver is really good for Cindi. She is vibrant and healthy. We'll keep it as part of our morning routine. But we can't help but feel a bit of a loss for the way we used to begin our days.