Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Some cats are meant to be held...

Perhaps all cats, but I'm not sure. One cat I know, a Spanish male who resides in the Northwest, would just as soon bite my fingers hard as be held. A couple of outdoor cats I feed allow me to pet them now, but I would never cross the boundary that all of us animals share!

But, once again, this is a Camilla story, not a universal cat story...but a short one. Yesterday, I jumped the gun and bought a beautiful, conical Blue Spruce in a red container (the tree wants to be planted) and it is happily occupying one corner of the living room now, but will probably expire before Christmas. Camilla took to it immediately, sniffing, and caressing...seeing that it was the one live plant--or thing--in the apartment, and quickly identifying with it. But then she was up high and looked forlorn. Sort of can always tell.

I knew how she felt. I took her in my arms and she liked that more than the tree. Go figure. Me too..."Jump to me, Camilla," and she did. Now I am writing this. Now I am done.


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