Cat Friday

I have fallen down on the job. I do not have a new digital image of her royal felineness, Dame Julian.

Truth be told, I've hardly been home long enough to take her picture. I had rehearsal Tuesday evening, church stuff on Wednesday, and a farewell gathering to attend last night. The lady has been left on her own for most of the week.

I feel appropriately guilt-ridden.

I suspect that Ms Julian is poring over her contract right now to see if there's a clause that releases her from the need to model if I miss a week. Happily, I wrote the contract in such a way that her food supply is tied to her modeling gig. She's not likely to forego the food bowl.

So — we may have a belated digital image later this evening or early tomorrow morning.

In the meantime, picture this: I've pulled out my trusty Seagull guitar, and I'm practicing music I plan to perform at a Peace Walk on Sunday. DJ starts running all over the house. She literally runs up the door jambs! She hides in my bedroom.

Hard not to take this as a form of criticism. I suspect there are overtones in the guitar that disturb her sensitive ears. I don't think it's my singing; I sing to her all the time, and she doesn't seem to mind.

Just the other morning, I was commenting that I hardly need an alarm clock. Julian has been very regular, waking me up around 4:45 every morning.

Here's the normal routine: sometime during the night, she falls asleep in the bend of my knees. Then, somewhere between 4 and 4:45, she wakes up. I can feel her stirring. She sallies up to the head of the bed, with a purr as big as the morning sky. I generally roll over and start petting her. She'll find a comfortable spot (for her) and settle down for the fitting ministrations of her companion and servant.

She'll nip at my fingers when she's had enough, then wander off. In short order, she returns ready to play. She has gone off, you see, to retrieve one of her mouse toys. She drops it in the middle of the comforter, and often tosses it up in the air and pounches on it.

Did I mention that all this takes place near one of the softer and more sensitive areas of my anatomy? Let's just say the playground extends from just below my rib cage to my pubic area.

If I'm not awake by this point, there may be no hope for me.

Well, I guess she was on strike this morning. Or, I was so tired from last night's festivities that I would have slept through anything.