Up at the top of this page as I write is an image of our two cats.  Several years ago, I gave in to the pleadings of our kids and let each of them adopt a kitten. I stressed that how they were raised would largely determine their personalities, and both kids needed to spend lots of time petting and playing with them. They happily agreed and both did a good job. Unfortunately, one cat didn’t come back after a trip outdoors, but the owner picked out a duplicate from the animal shelter who liked people attention even more.

Fast-forward a few years. Older child is off at college, living in a dorm where animals are not allowed.  Cat is left at home, with no human slave dedicated to petting her. Cat does NOT like this. So, in between long naps to recover from hours of doing nothing, she saunters out of her human’s room looking for petting.

I am not the favorite petting source, but right now no one else is home.  So she has condescended to jump up on my recliner, purr for a while, and then settled down to sleep with her chin on my laptop.  (Cats are only comfortable when they are in the way. They are a lot like toddlers.) When I pet her, she may stretch in her sleep, or meow complainingly, or start trying to lick my hand. When she wakes up, she may glare at me like I’m from another planet, or race the length of the house making as much noise as possible (her “thundering herd of elephants” game), or amble off like I am not worth noticing.

The one she is really dedicated to eliciting attention from is my dog, a border collie mix who has decided the two house cats are her herding charge. To see the two of them together, the cat rubbing against the dog trying to make friends while the dog looks horrified because this is NOT the proper distance to keep the animals one is herding, is hysterical.

I don’t remember the last time I turned on the TV. Our own unscripted sitcom is way funnier than anything coming over the airwaves.