Luke's new home

Our cat, Luke, has decided his new home is on top of our baby grand piano (which hasn't been played for 20+ years and is so out of tune no one who could play would play it). The piano is a piece of furniture with lots of pictures and stuffed animals on top of it.

That's where Luke has spent a whole bunch of hours a day for about three days. His previous place was on the couch (actually, the bottom of a bunk bed) where Bern sits in our TV room.

One thing you never want to happen is to suddenly be thrust into the brain of a cat.

You'd never get out.

Dogs, even dogs like our bad dog Bela, have some sort of semi-logical, linear thinking. You can usually approximate what they're thinking.

Not cats. Cats are an eternal mystery that ends up spending hours among framed photos on the top of a piano.

And after he uses the litter box, he runs like mad (and he's pretty fast for a 14 year old cat!) all the way upstairs.

Do you ever run out of the bathroom?  Me neither, but Lukie does.

Go figure.

You can't even 'ponder' a cat's mind. It's imponderable.

Dogs, someone told me, have packs. Cats have a staff.