Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Penny, my cat, and I get along pretty well. We’re both easy going. However, there are several things of which Penny definitely does not approve. One of those is me making the bed every morning. I’ve always done that. I rather like to have it that way. Penny sees absolutely no sense in that. I don’t disturb her in the bed-making procedure as she is usually sacked out on the chair in the corner about five feet from the bed. She seems to simply regard it as an unnecessary disruption to the otherwise tranquil nature of the morning. As soon as she becomes aware that bed making is about to begin, she vacates the bedroom for the more restful atmosphere of the living room. I just let her go, secure in the knowledge that she will shortly show up in the kitchen for breakfast.

That brings up another thing of which Penny is particular and that is the conditions of her dining. It’s not the food that is the issue. She is quite happy with a bit of tuna or some dry food. What she likes is privacy. If I put out her food and then continue to putter around the kitchen, she will leave and wait until I finish puttering so I’ve gotten in the habit of putting Penny’s food out only after I have finished everything that needs to be done and can leave her if total peace. The situation may be due the fact that I once—no, twice—stepped on Penny’s tail (unintentionally, of course) in the midst of my puttering. She’s taking no more chances on that happening.

The third idiosyncrasy (I believe that’s the right word) of Penny is the fact that she objects to my singing. She makes that quite plain. If I start singing she heads elsewhere. Does that offend me? Well . . . yeah. I had a dog many years ago that objected to my playing the bagpipe. I could understand that. The bagpipe is an instrument that is either loved or hated with few in-betweens. This particular dog even hated the sound of the practice chanter and he would react to either the chanter or the pipes by sitting on the floor at my feet and howling his heart out. At least Penny doesn’t howl. She is much more discreet in expressing her displeasure—but express it she does. Does that stop me from singing? No. I put up with her idiosyncrasies; she’ll have to put up with mine.

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