A Delicate Balance

A Delicate Balance – play by Edward Albee.

Three tough hours to sit through. What I found most disturbing was the leading man’s admission in the first act, that when his cat stopped being affectionate to him he had her KILLED. And I find it disturbing not because he killed the cat; she was old and probably senile. I find it disturbing because of the metaphor to love relationships. Is that what we do when our mate no longer is affectionate -- kill them? In a way I think it is. And if we don’t literally kill them, we kill off the “them” we know and say we no longer love them.

Funny thing happened this morning. Smudge, my younger cat, was not well socialized as a kitten, due to my starting a new job. For a long time, he thought he was the other cat’s cat. A few years ago he had to have oral surgery and spent the day at the vet’s office. On returning home, he purred loudly. I think that was the first time he realized that he was my cat. This morning I was rubbing his head and jowls and he started to purr. I know it’s because he knows he is going to be fed, and eating is his major joy in life. But it amused me, because my old cats and me are still learning to love each other.