Saturday, January 26, 2008

They call her Sarah.

I just call her, "You there!" or "Hey, you!" Not that she always responds to either. She can be quite obtuse sometimes. And humans think they have a higher intellect. Ha! I'm not saying that she isn't a good caretaker, in fact she has many positive attributes, but let's face it, there's always room for improvement.

The job description for my perfect person is really rather simple. Someone who cares devotedly about my wellbeing, someone who is available to me 24 hours a day, someone with a keen intuition to my communications, someone with a liberal hand with the food, and someone who will keep me company while I sleep without being overly affectionate. It really isn't much to ask, is it? I don't think so.

Luckily for me, I found someone who quite nearly fits the bill. You may remember her as the slightly taller girl who took me home, and it was her birthday cake in which I indulged just a few days ago. She does things like that, leaving food out for me. It's sort of a bonus, really. The other humans figure she's just forgetful, but I know the truth. No one would leave food out that often if it weren't on purpose for me.

In return for these services, I put up with the sometimes strange things that she puts me through. Like smushing me into a photograph that I wanted no part in (I photograph better alone, I'm a one-cat show), or the 'bath' that she gives me every night with a facecloth. I don't pretend to understand these behaviours. As long as I'm rewarded with treats, I can be a good sport.... usually.

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