This weekend, I house sat Gabriel and Eleanor's cat, Rex.
I stared at the cat. The cat stared back.
I was surprised the cat wasn't the least bit bothered by a stranger in its house. It was as if I had been there all along - a familiar piece of furniture unaccountably come to life.
The cat's appointed refuge was the bathroom. Released from its confines, the cat would head straight to a houseplant to drink from the water at its base. (No accounting for taste.) Apart from that, the cat appeared not to drink at all, and to eat very little. Instead, the cat dug its claws into a favorite cardboard box. And preferred to sleep. Boy, did that cat sleep.
So, I read my Tony Hillerman book, "Sacred Clowns", watched Figure Skating, two episodes of the Twilight Zone, and an old Kirk Douglas movie about New Mexico (1951's 'Ace in the Hole') on the TV.
And I stared at the cat. And the cat stared back.