In a previous life my cat Phoebe must have been a pro baseball player who during the off season won trophies in fishing tournaments. Last weekend my lovely wife and I did some gardening. By gardening I mean my wife did the actual gardening, dividing plants, planting seeds, trimming roses, etc. I mowed. The cats love it when we garden.
We have three cats, Willow, Ursula, and Phoebe. They feel it is their duty to follow my wife around and protect her from birds and squirrels and each other. Phoebe has an additional job. Her other job is to roam around in the back yard and wait until I look her way. Then she does the cat version of what baseball players do when the television camera zooms in when there is no action. Whenever I look over at Phoebe she immediately contorts herself to lick clean a most personal area. I said baseball player ‘like’ behaviour. Cats can’t spit, or pick their noses. They however try their best. Other times I look and she immediately turns her back on me lifts her tail and bends over to scratch the ground. The first few times this happened I figured it was just bad luck. Around the eighth or ninth time I began to grow suspicious. By the way, Phoebe is my favorite cat. Oh… and next weekend I am buying a squirt gun.
This morning Phoebe brought down a fish from our pond to show us. I am still unclear about how she did this. First, Phoebe hates water. Second, the fish was alive and sucking air when she brought it downstairs to the basement. Third, there wasn’t a scratch on him. I grabbed the fish, which is named Eric, and tossed him back into the pond. Can you imagine the story that Eric had to tell? When fish exaggerate to other fish do they call it a human story?
You may ask why Phoebe is my favorite cat. It is because she is honest. The other cats act in random and unpredictable ways. I never get any feedback until it is too late. Phoebe on the other hand always lets me know where I stand. When I picked up the fish Phoebe just turned away from me and showed me her ass.