Adventures of a Freelance Murray Slaughter - April 14th, 2003

When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple
with a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
and satin candles, and say we've no money for butter.

Which is to say that Chiya, having finished up with the almost dying thing, has been acting very weird. She hasn't lost any of her training or intelligence, per se. She's just doing weird ass things, like drinking out of the toilet (even if the toilet is closed, she'll paw at the lid rather than just go to the waterdish), and hiding in cupboards and hitting my feet as I pass, and crawling into my lap as I meditate (when she was a kitten, this is how we met. I was put into a room at the vet's with her and two other kittens, her sisters. I sat down, cross-legged, and two kittens went 'hey! room to explore!' and one kitten said 'Hey! lap to crawl into!', climbed into that little space in the middle when you're cross-legged, put her little chin on my knee, and purred. But she hasn't done this in a decade).

Don't misunderstand, she's not at all kittenish, she's still quite the Chiya. She just seems to have come out of this most recent life-threatening experience with an attitude of 'fuck it.'