I am a cat owner. I often find myself talking to my cat, asking why she does the things that she does. Her name is Scout. A book came out about her namesake last year, after spending many years in a safe deposit box. The woman who wrote that book recently passed away.
Scout is bookish by nature. That’s the conclusion I’ve come to after asking her what she’s doing with my reading material. Since she doesn’t reply, I can only assume that she thinks I’m doing it wrong. And she is not the only cat out there that feels this way.
They are judging us.
When she uses the book stacks as stepping stones so her feet don’t have to touch the floor, it’s a reminder that books don’t belong on the floor.
When she crawls into the Amazon boxes and takes a nap, it’s a comment on my inability to gather up and take out the trash in a timely manner.
When I put the book down, and she comes over to sit on top of it, it is a reminder that the table is for eating. Or that the floor is for walking. Or that the couch is for cuddles. Or the bed for sleeping.
When she crawls into the shelf and wedges herself into even the smallest space, it is so that she can demonstrate that there’s always more room for books.
When she pushes the most recent stack of book mail off the table, it is because it she knows which titles need to be read first and which titles may need to be passed along to someone else.
Scout is particularly skilled at this last point. And so far, she’s been right on the money.