Sunday, March 06, 2011
Bali likes to hang out on the dining-room table while Gary and I eat dinner. Sometimes he tries to mooch food, but I really think he mainly does it for the company. He always wants to be where we are. The cats are very different that way; Figaro demands an intense lap session every day or two, but otherwise prefers his space. (And yes, I know, we're very indulgent to allow Bali on the table; if you disapprove, you don't have to eat at our house, but then you'll miss Gary's wonderful cooking.)
Tonight he was kind of pacing around at the far end of the table. "Bali," I said, "lie down!"
To my amazement, he did.
A few minutes later, after he'd gotten up again, I gave the same command, and again he obeyed it.
Of course, since he's a cat, he only obeyed because he felt like it. Still, he understood what I wanted. (Naturally, I praised him lavishly for his intelligence.) This just goes to prove that he's still our puppy-cat.
He's going to be distraught when we're gone next week, poor baby. But I know our cat-sitter will spoil him rotten.