The cat, poor dear, was trying to make friends with the stock pot. So he rubbed up against the stock pot, and caused it to drop from the pantry shelf. And it landed on the wood floor, and it slid its built-in colander into the cat’s legs. And then there was silence. And then there was yowling, until I hauled the cat upstairs. And now the cat is attacking everything he can detect–which isn’t much, because he has cataracts. But it’s episodes like this that might explain why I found him, the other day, sitting in the dark, listening to a recording he’d somehow un-paused of Leonard Cohen.
(Originally posted February 18, 2014)