Tuesday, May 10, 2005


Right now, even as we speak, I'm sitting on my bed, watching a slightly strange movie, and looking at one of my cats. It's the cat that has my attention.

Sasha is a rescue-shelter cat who's blind in one eye. I call her "Spook" because when we got her from the shelter she had a habit of running and hiding any time anyone in the family came near her. She warmed up to us after about four months, and even slept most nights at the foot of our bed. And then we started to pack.

The house is full of boxes, and also full of pre-move tension. Lots of stuff to accomplish in a very little time, and very little resolution is forthcoming. And there lies (lies? lay? lays? What is it?) the cat. Flat on her back, little kitty legs sprawled all around, little kitty snores coming from her mouth.

What's the deal with the cat? How does a cat that deserves the name "Spook" by day, who will never let me get near her, who won't be seen between the hours of 8 a.m. and 10 p.m. . . . how does that cat get so relaxed now??

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