the bitch

Yesterday morning I had coffee with one of my mentors. A certain friend would ask the question "is he sixty?", and in this case the answer is "yes, and then some." Discussing the general pattern of my life at present, I mentioned that I did Honours part time so I could work up to thirty hours a week still, because my cat refused to support me. I was most impressed when he looked at me, paused and then said, "The bitch," with "bitch" falling exactly at the right moment, with a great downbeat.

She may refuse to pay rent, but the one thing I will say in her favour is that recently Scout has started to spoon me when she curls up in my bed. I wake with her cat face and paws nuzzled into my back.