Friday, April 01, 2011

Living with Leo

Before you jump to the conclusion that this is the successor to the Late Great Mickey, let me clear it up right away. It is NOT. This is Leo (who oddly also answers to the moniker Little Man), a cat of such bountiful hair that he appears three times his actual size. Leo is a Himalayan who nibbles daintily on the contents of tiny cans of cat food the size of silver dollars. My Mickey was a breed unto himself who devoured with gusto everything that wasn’t nailed down. Leo is sweet and laid-back. Mick was a thug known to nip even the hand that fed him. The only thing the two have in common is that they are/were both cats.

Leo’s a loaner cat, here for a few days while our younger daughter and her boyfriend explore housing options near Washington D.C. where they will be moving in June thanks to Joe’s new job. He works here in Ohio for the Department of Agriculture (something to do with grain and ships), but will soon be ensconced right in the heart of the government district. Long time readers may remember last fall when I dogsat Max the boxer. Leo is Max’s adopted brother. The reason I got Leo this time is because they can’t leave him alone since their house is for sale and I’m a cat person and Joe’s father is a dog person. Though Max and I got on famously, I’m still partial to cats, so in that regard the four-legged people got divvied up just right.

Leo arrived late last night, so this morning he was still a little skittish, particularly about the hardwood floor on the steps. He prefers soft carpet so he sort of picks his way up and down. I would be secretly calling him a wimp were it not for the fact that you can’t undermine a cat who instinctively recognizes quality when he sees it. This morning I looked all over for him and finally found him in the guest room lying regally on my divine purple office chair that will soon be in the office( it WILL!). Until it is, however, I'm happy to dub it the temporary designated throne of King Leo I.

Actually, it’s a good thing I have him for company today (though I’ve lost him in the house again), as I was decidedly cranky after leaving at 6:30 in the morning to wait three freaking hours at an estate sale that advertised “lots and lots of great books” and delivered about a hundred lousy books. We were in and out in ten minutes flat and that’s with looking through three stories and a basement. From there we repaired to Panera to drown our sorrows in dark roast coffee and cinnamon crunch bagels. The caffeine and sugar revived us somewhat, at least enough to head over to T.J. Maxx in hopes of replacing the appetizer plates for the Akron Antiqaurian Book Fair basket, one of which I ceremoniously destroyed by dropping it on the brick floor of Eric’s office. I had hoped for the same ones I’d had, but that was asking far too much, so I settled for a black and white set that looks faintly Asian. They’re smaller than the original, but it’s still better to present four smaller ones than a measly two bigger ones when anyone, including those with a recessive shopping gene, knows they come packaged in fours. Even Eric, who has no shopping gene at all, agreed with me on that one.

Anyway, the fact that I can now call the basket a wrap (ha-ha) cheered me up a bit, as did the fact that Leo came out of hiding a few minutes ago and headed for the guest room. I thought I’d snap a picture of him ensconced in the divine purple office chair for this post, but NO -- I CANNOT. He’s defected to the armchair in the corner next to the bed. Maybe he and the Late Great Mickey have something in common after all.

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