When I was growing up, my family had a cat, Harriet. Unlike most aloof, distant cats, Harriet was more needy and attention-loving. Often when I would sit outside reading a book or newspaper, Harriet would saunter up, meow once or twice, and sit herself right in the middle of my book.
Kathleen loves the vacuum cleaner. Sometimes I will find her in her room, where the vacuum cleaner is kept, and find her cocking her head and cooing at her tall, red, plastic friend. And if she and the vacuum cleaner are friends when it is off, she adores it when it is on. As soon as Kathleen hears her favorite roar, she will come crawling as fast as her knees and hands can take her and sit, staring adoringly, right in the path of the vacuum cleaner.
I think perhaps that my baby is cut out to be a housewife, because in addition to her love affair with the vacuum cleaner, she also has an affinity for laundry, the fresher the better. This afternoon we sat down together to fold the laundry. Of course Kathleen's favorite spot was right in front of me, on top of the laundry.
If only we could train her to use a litter box.