|Travis, a.k.a. "Mr. Cool," 1981|
|BOTB meets Dora, 1986|
We’d been in Texas for about three months when I brought Dora the Siamese home. This was when I was first introduced to the concept of cats choosing a person. Dora chose. I was not it. Dora was constantly at BOTB’s side. But when I would pick her up, she’d squirm like my hands were conducting electricity, and demand to get down. I didn’t think too much of it at first. Not every cat can be my personal best friend, I reasoned.
|My buddy Cruford, 1972|
|Ellis, where he can usually be found|
When we got him home, Ellis spent about a day loving up both of us. After that, he was strictly a momma’s boy. Today, has zippedy to do with me. If I were to croak and Ellis were to find himself shut up with me in the house, he might approach close enough to eat my toes, but it would be nothing personal. He just doesn’t come around me, and if I step in his direction, he scurries off. By contrast, he’s all over BOTB at any hour of the day or night. What really hurts is that when he’s standing on her chest giving her head-butts, he looks over at me to see if I’m watching. And so does she. The two of them enjoy my solitude and isolation, and take perverse, cruel pleasure from it.
|Mina arrives at the Manse de Carr, 2012|
|"What? What'd we do?"|
|Mina sacks out underneath my desk|
|My secret liaison with Mina|
|Mina visits with me in the man chair (the downstairs recliner).|
|The lion by my office chair|
Find out more about the Bride of the Bloviator and see some of her musings here.
And if you like snarky humor, please check out my novel, Messages, which applies the treatment to the news industry.
©2014 by Forrest Carr. All rights reserved.