With M.E., you can't really 'do' things. And you spend ALOT of time by yourself.
A LOT of time quietly in a bed or on a sofa.
Understandably, it is difficult not to be filled with a profound sense of solitude: 'Out There', life continues apace whilst 'In Here', it is just you, your resting place, and your silence. You can't watch TV - it hurts your brain, you can't listen to music - it hurts your ears, you can't talk on the phone - it hurts your throat, you can't meet with anyone - you're just-too-tired.
So it's you, your sofa, and your friend silence...
... then in walks The Cat..
Olly the Cat.
A present from a loved one to keep you company. A ginger and cream Burmese dynamo. A Top Cat with the loudest miaow (and purr) in Catville.
You are no longer alone!
You can't talk to the cat (not in words anyway) you can't share your burdens with your cat (at least not if need a response) but you can be loved, can be snuggled with, can be purred at, and can be made to feel the most important person in the universe.
Life is different. You can't feel solitude because you have a permanent friend. You don't feel scared because the purring is too sweet, and whilst you can't do much else, you can help a little fur ball. You can give him a loving home, you can feed him the best food, you can play with him and groom him, and you can love him back. You can, at last, 'do'.
So, to the person who gifted me Olly the Cat, and for Olly the Cat himself, I express my deepest gratitude for making my (m.e.) life just that little bit better... xxx