To be loved vibrantly.

My dear cat Marcello is brilliant. He understands me. Knows automatically. When I’m angry. Or when I’m sad.  Knows my mood even before I know it. Like virtually all cats and dogs that have lived with me over the years. Marcello picks up my vibes. It’s the way we communicate. Directly. It’s almost as if the vibes become meaningful words. Yes. Yes. A language, of sorts. Or maybe it’s that he’s reading my mind. The other night. Marcello knocked over a basket. Full of knick-knacks. Spilling everything noisily over the floor. I was annoyed. Shouted. Barked. ‘No. no. You’re a bad boy.’ He knew I was displeased. I continued making my point. He did something wrong. And he knew it. As I persisted. And pretended. With the tone of my voice. That he had committed a grievous wrong. By my standards, at least. Marcello got the message. He lurked off. Hid in a closet.  As I pursued. Continuing to emit vibes that I wanted him to catch. To feel. And my, my. What a nice result. A half hour later, Marcello was cozying up to me. Playing nice. Trying to please me. To demonstrate that he was a good boy. Asking to be forgiven. To be in my good graces again. That’s the way I took it. I picked up on his vibes. I mention this. As the kind of therapy. That I practice. On those with dementia. Emitting only good vibes. In their presence. I learned. Early on. In care-giving. That my vibes. Could have a negative or soothing effect.  Depended. If I was angry. Jeanne picked up on it. Made her feel bad. Insecure.  If I was being positive. Pleasant. Jeanne knew that, too. Her behavior changed. For the good. I was pleasing her. And that made her happy. I sensed it. From the vibes she emitted back. No more hostility. No more paranoia. Yes. Yes. Jeanne was reacting. With animal-like instinct. She yearned for good vibes. She yearned to be loved.  Jeanne knew it. Sensed it. In her waning years. That she was loved vibrantly. Beyond a shadow of doubt. --Jim

P.S. Really, I'm the one that should be asking Marcello for forgiveness. For becoming angry. Over a trivial matter.