For those of you who were wondering--both of you--the Homesteader, aka Dumb Animal, aka Dish Rag, aka The Boss is doing quite well. She's still just as beautiful and brilliant as she thinks she is. And she's still very much at the center of the universe--her universe. Though it is summer, and she knows it--I'm home just about every day--she still insists on waking me up at 5:30 in the morning. Sweet nothings in my ear, paws in the center of my back, no mercy until I rise and shine. Shine meaning feed her.
As always the chair in the doorwindow is hers when she wants it. Occasionally, she'll share and sit in my lap--as long as I pet her. When I get up to do anything, she just plops in behind me. And woe to the human who tries to sit back down then! I am glad that I am still not proficient in Catonese. Her days are spent loafing around the house, sitting in the windows upstairs, making the motion light at the top of the stairs flash on and off. For exercise she can still fly up those stairs or fly across the upstairs floor and leap into one of the windows. And if she sees something of interest, she races down the stairs to check things out. Her greatest pet peeve is if I sit in the chair and read--newspaper, book, anything. She jumps into the chair, pushes whatever I think is more important than paying attention to her out of the way, and starrs me down until I do as I've been trained to do--spoil her.
Anyway, she's doing fine. Ask her and she'll be delighted to let you know. She'll greet you at the door, flop down and pet herself, just so you know that wherever you've been, you should have been home petting her. I should have named her Ego.
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