Cat Checking, Companion Lunching, Friend Listening, Rain Playing, Speaker Moving, Cat Observing

For the last week, I've been checking on a friend's feline. The feline is brown, white and tan with large eyes, almost puppy-sized paws, and has a lynx-like appearance. From past experience, I knew he would be very upset that "daddy" was gone. And such was the case.

As I first stood at the door, I could hear his bleating voice inside. Once I opened the door, I could tell he was expecting someone else, and his disappointment was obvious. I tried to be very careful not to do anything that would upset him.

(The last time I dealt with him, he felt threatened and slashed me across the face.) I'm sure that he's knows I look familiar, but he's not sure if I should be trusted. But it appeared that each day I visited, he was slightly more willing to find me trustworthy.

Last night, I got an e-mail from his human companion, indicating he was home. So today, we, the human companion and I, had lunch, and talked about his holiday. A trip to New England, a jaunt into Quebec and a jag back into New England.

He said he was surprised at the very strong French character of Quebec. Areas in which English is not spoken. Road signs only in French. Although I'd read of the Quebec independence movement, I'd not realized the true depth of the situation.

We finished lunch, then went back to his place. The kitty was very clingy and finally stretched out on the couch and began to purr.

We talked of cabbages and kings, and after about 45 minutes, I left. There's something about my cerebral wiring that limits my discussions with just about anyone to around two hours. After that point, I can feel disinterest creeping in. Also, by then, if there are revelations to be made, they have been made, and anything else seems anti-climatic.

It was raining as I drove home. One of those late spring thunderstorms that briefly douse the earth. Once home, I decided I wanted to go back out and play in the rain. So off I went. My intent was to visit the reservoir and walk along the rocks. But it quickly began to clear, and I had to abandon the idea. So rain play will have to come another day.

So the big speakers have now become the front set. And the little one have become the rear set. And the middle has stayed the middle. BUT all have been moved to new locations. My initial response was very positive. However, I need to do some more listening.

In the process I glanced at the receiver manual, and noticed the placement of the units was clearly marked. So I'm not sure how I managed to get everything backwards. Now that I think of it, shortly after moving into the house, burglars carted off all the electronics. And once I got a new system, I never bothered to re-think the position of the speakers. Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Whenever I move something, the cats want to help. Which usually consist of playing with cords and cables. Or sneaking behind the furniture when I'm not looking. Or insisting that I take a break after about thirty seconds to pet. Just as I finished, I noticed Hermes was sitting atop of one speaker, and Athena on top of another. And both had that bemused look that only cats can have. As if to say, "Wow! Look what we did!"

My felines have shredded the back of my dilapidated couch to the extent that they can now crawl inside. Just another one of their many party tricks.

PAX!