Yesterday, I read this:
http://dilbert.com/blog/entry/my_cat_again/
As a cat owner -- we have two, Sirius (aka OtherCat) who is smart but strange, and Padfoot (aka Pads), who is strange and, well, to be fair, not very smart. Pads had a period of illness a couple of weeks ago -- off his food, lethargic, nothing obvious but worrying, probably a hairball. After a few doses of vet-supplied meat-flavoured petroleum jelly followed by the consequences I'm sure I don't have to go into -- except, perhaps, to say that the smell's really nasty -- all was well again. But there were a couple of days that we were really worried that he might have something potentially fatal going on and, for all his strangeness (did you ever meet a cat that wanted to shake paws with you?) I'm not entirely sure what our life would be like without him.
So Scott Adams' story of his cat touched me deeply. I might even have shed a tear. Maybe even two.
I mentioned the story to Bec, who said she'd like to read it.
Bec read it.
Without deconstructing everything in massive detail, she read it three times, cried after the first two and managed to control herself enough on the third read-through that she "only" had to suppress a lump in her throat.
She's taken a printed copy of the story into work with her, today. She says she needs evidence to point at when people ask her why her eyes are a bit puffy this morning.
I think there's at least a fair chance that productivity at her workplace will be a bit on the low side, today.
http://dilbert.com/blog/entry/my_cat_again/
As a cat owner -- we have two, Sirius (aka OtherCat) who is smart but strange, and Padfoot (aka Pads), who is strange and, well, to be fair, not very smart. Pads had a period of illness a couple of weeks ago -- off his food, lethargic, nothing obvious but worrying, probably a hairball. After a few doses of vet-supplied meat-flavoured petroleum jelly followed by the consequences I'm sure I don't have to go into -- except, perhaps, to say that the smell's really nasty -- all was well again. But there were a couple of days that we were really worried that he might have something potentially fatal going on and, for all his strangeness (did you ever meet a cat that wanted to shake paws with you?) I'm not entirely sure what our life would be like without him.
So Scott Adams' story of his cat touched me deeply. I might even have shed a tear. Maybe even two.
I mentioned the story to Bec, who said she'd like to read it.
Bec read it.
Without deconstructing everything in massive detail, she read it three times, cried after the first two and managed to control herself enough on the third read-through that she "only" had to suppress a lump in her throat.
She's taken a printed copy of the story into work with her, today. She says she needs evidence to point at when people ask her why her eyes are a bit puffy this morning.
I think there's at least a fair chance that productivity at her workplace will be a bit on the low side, today.
