He is a strange cat, difficult to predict, sometimes surprisingly intelligent, but often his intelligence is masked by his petulance. Tenzing is six, nearly seven; an age in which humans have begun to move toward full comprehension and conversational ability. I joke about my 'eternal toddlers' but there is truth in that statement, more truth than some people realize.While very much alike in appearance, Edmund and Tenzing are very different in temperament.

the random delicatessen

"I'll have a little from Column A and a little from Column B, please."

Short, cryptic, and marginally observational snippets from life in the past week:

on preparing for Patrick's arrival

So, I thought, now that I've done these other chores, I should consider tidying up the coffee table. An excellent idea, in theory; while short of a full cleaning, it would at least put the little piles back in reasonable order and make it appear that we are far tidier than, in fact, we actually are.

Except I did not expect to incur the wrath of the dervish Tenzing, who leapt upon the table with alacrity, snapping eyes, and swishing tail. What happened next can only be described from his point of view, which I immediately wrote down and sent to some friends:

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A prince among men

"Well, if you need me to take you to the doctor's office, call me back and let me know. Today's a quiet day. I can do it."

"I think I'll be able to manage. Thanks, though."

I hung up the phone and lay back on the couch. Maybe I'd get some sleep. I set an alarm clock, just in case, and closed my eyes. Only to cough. Again. I put another pillow behind my back and pulled the blanket up a little higher.

I looked down when I heard the little interrogative chirp?, knowing it meant only one thing—Edmund warning me that he was about to jump on my chest. I patted my chest and he hopped up, great lumbering tub of lard he is, and snuggled on my chest. He beamed a kitty smile at me and purred, gently flexing his front claws in rhythm with his breathing.

fever dreams, part 3

Days of elevated temperature: ten. Though, it should be noted, today was the first day my temperature never hit 100°F. Progress!I have seen the inside of my lungs, and they are bright yellow. We'll just leave it at that. No part of my body should be bright neon yellow. Yuck.

two ideas, one neuron

Email sent this morning:

domesticat + power tools + "Ballroom Blitz" == VERY SCARED EDMUND

Shortly thereafter, a phone call:

"Um, dear, what power tool are you using?"
"Oh, the drill. The littlest drill bit makes a hole that's just a little bit smaller than what's necessary, so it's perfect."
"Ah. I just wondered what in the world you were using to hang hooks."

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