My cat Friday
Dear readers, thank you for your kind and interesting comments about Gremlins, and please forgive my boorish silence, which does not reflect any lack of enthusiasm on my part vis-a-vis the firsthand Gremlin stories of all your pilot friends and relatives.
My boorish silence does, however, reflect that I recently adopted a “desocialized” kitten (the San Francisco SPCA is having a month-long special on kittens). So I spent pretty much all week socializing this kitten:
We sat for hours together locked up in the bathroom, playing with a feather. And… now he is socialized! He follows me everywhere. I changed his name to Friday, because he is like a tiny companionable savage, and has such a lively and affectionate disposition. He purrs like a lawnmower, not only if you pet him, but also if he thinks you might pet him at some time in the future.
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Later we went to the vet and she listened to his heart with a stethoscope, and he started to purr then, too—sort of like a miniature lion acknowledging the ministrations of St. Jerome.
Now I have to catch up on a bunch of work that I didn’t do last week because I was too busy playing with a really cute kitten. But I will write more soon.
Tags: animals, doctors, Robinson Crusoe, St. Jerome
August 24th, 2008 at 8:10 pm
You have a cat!!!!!!!!I miss you and love you..
August 25th, 2008 at 6:51 am
Your cat Friday is aptly named. His appellation is entrusted to Venus. Venus is the goddess of present and future potential purr. And the feather, ah the feather — if only certain humans could be so readily “socialized.”
August 25th, 2008 at 5:25 pm
What wonderful news! I never knew this about Venus. Now I see that if you Google “Venus + purring” you get a BBC play-by-play narration of Venus Williams vs Naomi Cavaday at Wimbledon in June (”The players are warming up, leftie Cava bouncing around vigorously and Venus purring along on the opposite baseline”). It’s actually some very snappy writing:
There is also an NYT book review about seductresses, titled “Stop Purring, Ladies, and Pounce”, which traces vampishness “back to Fanny the Dancing Venus of 31,000 B.C.”
On the other hand: of those humans I know who would potentially benefit from extra socialization, there is not one with whom I would volunteer to sit in a tiny bathroom for hours and hours, with or without a feather.