Monday, April 17, 2006


Bennie is my cat, a five year old orange female tabby. I love her dearly. She's not always the brightest bulb on the marquee, but she does surprise every so often.

She used to jump straight to the top of the bookshelves in the living room from my side table. It was a favored napping spot since she got big enough to make the leap. Lately, her way is blocked by an enormous plastic ficus I've stashed in the corner behind the table. But she still jumps on the side table, pacing and looking up at "her" spot.

The other week, I walked over to her when she was doing that and consciously posed myself between her and the bookshelves, looked at her and then at the shelves, then lowered my right shoulder so she could leap to it. She didn't catch my meaning.

Then, one evening, she climbed onto the back of the easy chair next to the table, which is about 18 inches higher. Then she looked over at me at the computer.

I walked over and dropped my shoulder. Bang! She was on me and then looking at the bookshelves. I shuffled over a couple of paces so she could make an easy leap, which she did. She walked around exploring things up there a bit before curling up as of old and going to sleep.

Fifteen minutes later, she leapt down and went outside.

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