There is something so satisfying about a good, heartfelt plop. Coming home at the end of a stressful day, kicking off your shoes and throwing yourself/ plopping on your comfy bed. “Ahhh!”, your entire body says cheerfully!
A cat plop is something like that, only better. It’s the feline version of a happy dance. A cat plop signifies a deliriously happy feline. Maybe kitty was eating an entire freshly caught fish or a can of tuna, or simply the fact that Mommy and Daddy are home, and said kitty is happy. PLOP! – is the happy sound that precious furry body makes as kitty enthusiastically throws him/herself down, purring loudly for all to hear. It’s usually followed by a bit of a body twist, as if the bed/couch/floor is part of the plan, giving kitty a back massage. Some cats plop more than others. Simba, she had it mastered as a kitten.
When Simba and Guerita were kittens, it took Simba longer than it did Guerita to adjust to us and their new home. Guerita trusted us within days, walked around with her tail up; it took Simba a couple of weeks to feel at home. They had their own room and they had each other, and they had Mommy and Daddy time.
It was during that Mommy and Daddy time that Simba began to plop. She would jump up on our bed – which was supposed to be a no-no, but when we saw that she just wanted to get in front of the fan, we relented. She caught on that it was okay, so she continued to jump on the bed – but added an audible “plop” to it! She was officially our Little Plopper!
As Simba was the introvert of the kitties, it was only through her plops that we truly ever knew how content she was. And she plopped quite often! I remember when Simba snuck out of the house and got herself pregnant. My mother-in-law told me that afternoon that she had been asleep in her bed that morning. She heard a loud plop, looked at the foot of her bed, and there was Simba! That was a laugh out loud moment; although my mother-in-law had never been privy to our Simba plop stories, as soon as she said “plop”, I already knew the end of the story!
She mostly plopped for Daddy, but she plopped for me as well. she also reserved happy plops for when her Weeta came to town.
Simba was the Queen of Plops to the end. On her last night with us, she was too weak to walk. but that night, she wiggled her body up to mine, then wiggled her way over to snuggle up to Vidal- all night long. Although she no longer had the strength to pick herself up to stand, let alone plop- we knew that was what she was doing. she was giving us her final plops; letting us know how happy her life had been, and how much she loved us.
Truly our little Simba was the Plopmeister herself; the Queen of Plops. Now she is plopping away- her own “happy dance” in heaven, teaching all the other kitties how to truly express their joy!
You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy… Psalm 30:11
I’m soooooo happy!!!