My roommate’s cat Can’t Get Right, who suffered a traumatic head injury as a kitten, likes to lie on the washer and look out the windows at the birds and squirrels which grace our backyard. I was out there on Sunday throwing balls for the dog and I heard a thunk behind me as the cat threw himself bodily at the window in his frantic attempt to penetrate the invisible forcefield preventing him from catching the ball. He does that a lot. Generally I continue to throw the ball and the dog and I share a laugh at CGR’s expense. This time, I held the ball up to the window. CGR beat on the windows with his paws in a berserker trance until I took the ball away, a little bit afraid he’d hurt himself, and then he meowed at me and stalked off.
(In case you somehow missed it, the best poem ever written about cats.)
