A Good Cat
My cats, as they are wont to do, will hop up on our table and counters from time to time to investigate what can be found there – the salt and pepper shakers, the pineapple we just bought, an oven mitt. All of it is worthy of their curious noses and sometimes a nibble. I tolerate a certain amount of this because they’re adorable. But they’re also covered in shedible fur and muddy paws, so I’ll scoop them up and drop them back on the floor where they will immediately begin heading in whatever direction they were pointed when they landed, following their noses once again.
I have a curious nose in my own way, but I can get pretty irritated when someone interrupts my sniffing around. I’m therefore torn between admiration and mild contempt for my pets’ full compliance with my admittedly random enforcement of these kitchen edicts. After all, they were in the middle of something. That doesn’t seem to matter. Whether it’s the table or the floor, it’s as if they’re still in the middle of something, it’s just something somewhere else.
Though I did know a cat once, a semi-feral all-black we named Bear, who’d visit us in our yard. We considered adopting him after our first cat Lou was hit by a car. Bear was pretty friendly, but in a prickly way. One afternoon he followed me into our studio and jumped up onto my wife’s desk where her drawings were laid out. I lifted him off and put him down near the door. He followed me out, and promptly gave me a swipe on the ankle. Retaliation, it seemed, for redirecting him. I sympathized a little, but he wasn’t getting adopted. I couldn’t live with a cat that held a grudge.
Holding grudges is what people do, at least some of us. If I’m in the middle of something and someone says, “I need you to do this for me,” I’m a little grumbly for a bit. I might even take a swipe. Until of course, I’m doing what I was asked to do and now I’m in the middle of that and maybe it’s not so bad after all. I’m not a good cat, but I’m an okay person, especially once I allow myself to get interested in whatever’s under my nose.
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