It’s risky. A woman of a certain age writing about her cats. Readers might throw around phrases like “cat lady” and “crazy cat lady”. But it’s a chance I’m prepared to take. Spice is sixteen years old and has some chronic health problems. He has few teeth and hearing impairment and he gave us a good scare on New Year’s Day when he refused to eat. But he’s a (mostly) sweet, well-behaved little lad. Spice isn’t one of those stereotypical aloof animals that doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He loves his people and his food. This old cat turns into a kitten when he encounters a beloved toy. And he has a thing for wet bathtubs and shower stalls. He will follow and fuss around when I hang my clothes on the shower curtain rod for the next morning’s early start. I snapped him last summer when he was particularly curious.
He’s not as quick as he used to be but I still pity the mouse who enters these walls and encounters our Head of Security. I take a lot of pictures of Spice when he’s napping. He folds into a variety of pretzel-like positions that crack me up. If that makes me a Crazy Cat Lady, well, slap a bumper sticker on my Kia. Oh wait, my brother already did that.