Whiskey has been very mellow the last couple of days. Yes, there’s been a little pouncing and the occasional ambush bite, but mostly she rests beside me like a small, warm guardian of calm. Instead of launching surprise attacks at dawn, she wakes me with soft fur and quiet presence. It’s a much gentler way to start the day, and honestly, it sets the tone for everything that follows.
There’s something else I’ve discovered about tuxedo kittens. They’re magical.
The black-and-white shading isn’t just cute, it’s tactical. Whiskey can disappear into shadows, behind furniture, into folds of fabric, and then reappear as if she teleported through another dimension. This morning she ran behind the drapes. I pulled the curtain aside… nothing. Gone. A moment later, she materialized on my other side, looking at me like she’d just stepped out of a secret portal only tuxedo cats know about.
When she’s not practicing her vanishing act, she keeps busy with her daily athletic events:
Soccer Kitty (dribbling balls across the floor),
Jungle Kitty (ambushing ankles from behind furniture), and
Bunny Hop (a large leap that looks like a tiny rabbit).
Between Whiskey and Mom, the house stays full of company. None of us are lonely. Still, I’ll admit, part of me sometimes misses the idea of a night out. Sitting somewhere with people, having a beer, not many, just one or two. Social drinking, not drinking for effect. That’s something I learned after leaving AA years ago.
But then the practical voice shows up.
Alcohol and cigarettes have been longtime dance partners in my life. One often invites the other onto the floor. And right now, smoking is the opponent I’m focused on beating. I’ve come too far to risk reopening that door just for the atmosphere of a night out.
So for now, the town can wait.
The living room is my club. Whiskey is the entertainment. Mom is the company. And the real victory is waking up another day with fewer cravings and more control.
Once again, I got this.
by Dan and Boonkers
SUPPORT MENTAL HEALTH AWARENESS NOW!!!
