Ah, dear reader, I did have misgivings about writing Monday’s blog but I am both moved and touched by all of your incredibly thoughtful words and good wishes. You must believe me that I had no intention of inspiring such an outpouring when I wrote it. I am as happy, fulfilled, and hungry as I could be, so no more concerns about me, please.
I must disagree with Sigmund Freud who said, “Time spent with cats is never wasted.” Today, I am addressing an issue, which I introduced earlier, and have let drop for much too long, and that is the silver tabby named Zoë. I hoped by ignoring her she might disappear or even just fade into oblivion. But no, she is here to stay and is certainly an ever-visible presence.
She reminds me of certain people and dogs who cannot respect or recognize boundaries. I am sure you know to what I refer when I say that their concept of personal space differs vastly from yours or mine. Zoë, I even shudder using her name because I don’t wish to make her real, has no sense of propriety, nor does she understand that she should always defer to me. She has no sense of class or species separation. At any opportunity she will approach me, try to engage me in play or repartee, and today’s behavior was an affront to my dignity. While I was lying in Grandma’s office, with my harness and leash on, since we were leaving soon, she had the audacity to lie beside me and begin playing with my leash! She took it into her mouth and between her front paws, and then tugged at it wildly. Thinking she had enticed me, she then proceeded to roll into me. She laid on her back in wanton abandon while batting at me with her paws. The nerve of that cheeky minx! I was horrified, tried to avert my gaze, and still she persisted. When I got up to remove myself, she again seized my leash and started pulling me. She even grabbed hold of my front leg! Fortunately, Grandma had the good sense to look down and see this spectacle unfold; however, she laughed out loud saying, “Oh Zoë, you clever little puss…look at you and Mason” as if I were a willing participant.
I had a good mind to cuff her but decided instead to take the high road. Oliver, their other cat, would never cross that boundary. He and I are close in age and in temperament, so that we have an innate understanding of one another. He respects my space and I his. Zoë needs a good lesson taught her, but she is still young and undeniably cute, for a feline that is.