CHANNELING CAT


I’m not much of an animal person, but I sometimes exhibit a cat persona.

In the late afternoon or early evening, depending on the time of year, when the sun streams through my bedroom window and pools on my bed I seldom pass up the chance to curl up and float -- basking like a cat on a windowsill.

And although I could stand to lose a pound or fifty, I, as my long-suffering friends can attest, am a finicky eater. I’m allergic to garlic and fish; I hate onions and have become expert at picking onion fragments out of otherwise acceptable meals – an Asbergerish obsession. I also find the texture of some foods can be a deal-breaker. Yogurt, for example, is just plain icky; I’m creeped out by slimy things.

At a potluck if I can’t easily identify the ingredients in a dish I will ask others to sample it for me. When I can I bring my own food taster; Morris, the cat, would expect no less. Those friends who are cooks often volunteer to prepare a separate batch for me sans garlic, sans onions. I do try to be properly appreciative, but I do miss the onion-sorting-out process. Nobody seems to understand that I like to play with my food.

Like many cats, I can be civil, but it would be a mistake to call me civilized. I usually have soft paws, but have not been declawed. You cross me at your peril.

I’ve been told I have an aloof manner and an abrupt style. In any social situation there comes a point where I’m simply done. When that happens there are no niceties in my leave taking. I just turn my back and. cat-like, slip away

Like most cats I have my idiosyncrasies. I’m fond of water and I love swimming. Perhaps I more resemble an otter in that regard.

People have often suggested I get an animal, a cat perhaps, as a companion in my old age. Two reasons it never was a viable idea: One: I was responsible for raising four kids; I no longer want that kind of responsibility -- or any kind of responsibility. Two: I don’t want to share the rest of my life with a feline scene stealer. I have enough trouble getting the proper sort of attention for myself as it is.

I once saw a reader board that announced, “Dogs have masters. Cats have staff.” I’m currently interviewing for staff positions.