Thisbe Remembers That She is A Cat and Other Tales

Thisbe loves to see the sparrows on the feeder take off when she steps onto the front porch. The doves fly away with outrage and noisy wings, and the chipmunks and squirrels dive for cover. Such power. Such respect.

If some small creature comes back, Thisbe is ready to pounce, so long as the neighborhood is free of people, other animals and cars, along with any unrecognizable noise. Discretion is always the better part of valor in Thisbe's feline life.

She endured an entire week without catnip while I was gone, and yorked up a hairball in retribution. I like to think. In the meantime, we've had lots of Mommy/Kitty time.


Yesterday, on the march thru Salem neighborhoods for Obama, I saw some weird sights. Curtains so shabby they hung in shreds. People sitting at the kitchen table and refusing to answer the doorbell. A woman who would never vote for a Democrat again because of "how they treated Hilary." A haunted house, (almost).

For sure a lot of houses had no doorbells, and it was obvious to the casual observer that no one ever used the front door. Lots of cars in the driveway but no one home.

Is it true that if someone gives two excuses, that person is lying? Such as "I'm eating lunch and I have company." Dunno. Human nature is infinitely various.

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