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August 21st, 2007

The Cat Whisperer

I seem to be irresistible to cats. Not that I object, particularly, but I do find it somewhat baffling.

Our own Buddha's former clingy attachment to me has been documented elsewhere; while he's chilled out a bit on that score, he does still have a tendency to want to sit in my lap when he's not busy doing something else. But hey, he's our cat, that's to be expected.

laurie_robey's mom's cat Missy, on the other hand, grew up in the wild, is skittish, and dislikes strangers -- except for Laurie and myself, particularly me. Missy, who would not come out of hiding to meet Laurie's brother for months, came around to see Laurie and me shortly after we arrived on our first visit. This past visit, Missy repeatedly abandoned Laurie's mom's lap (her usual favorite perch) to come meow at me until I would skritch her ears and neck. She'd then wander off for two or three minutes, but then come back and start meowing again.

Finally, last night, we encountered Sally, a smallish black cat who popped up in the neighborhood last night and stood around mewing pitifully. She had a collar with an address that was just a few blocks away, but across the very busy Van Buren St. Laurie and I made the appropriate "Kitty, kitty, kitty?" noises and Sally came streaking over to me like a little black bolt of lightning, demanding scritches and general paying-of-attention. She was happy to be ministered by Laurie as well, but like Missy before her, seemed unusually receptive to me.

We ended up wrapping Sally in a towel and carrying her back across Van Buren, where we were greeted by the son of her hyoomans. Apparently they were out of town, and so the son was periodically coming over to feed her, and she was restless without company. I just hope she doesn't keep coming back over, nice kitty tho she may be -- I don't want her risking Van Buren, especially in the dark.

So I'm starting to wonder what is this strange power I have over cats.

-The Gneech

Fictionlet

"Hmm," said Greg.

"Hmm?" said Brigid.

"Yes, hmm," said Greg. "I said 'hmm' and I stand by it."

"'Hmm' what?" said Brigid.

"I'm feeling strangely academic, today," said Greg, looking out the rain-spattered window.

"And what does that mean, exactly?"

"Well, I'm not entirely sure," said Greg. "That's why I said, 'Hmm.'"

"Ah."

"Yes."

"Well you can give me a rough sketch, can't you?" said Brigid.

"I suppose I can, at that," said Greg. "Today, I'm of a mood to sit around an old brownstone building with other members of the honors society, bantering back and forth about the Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner, that kind of thing."

"I wouldn't expect there to be much banter material in the Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner," said Brigid.

"Are you kidding? All you need is for one banterer -- banterista? -- to ask what flavor the albatross is, and you've launched into a Monty Python routine."

"Hmm," said Brigid.

"Hmm," agreed Greg.

"So that's feeling academic, is it?"

"Well, how else would you describe it? I'm longing for a type of experience rarely found off the college campus."

"Maybe you should check Google for the most pretentious local coffee house you can find. That might do the job."

"Not a bad idea, at that. But who hangs out at pretentious coffeehouses on a rainy Sunday afternoon?"

"People like you, for starters," said Brigid, and headed for her room.

"Hmm," said Greg.

-The Gneech

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