I am occasionally asked what happens to Billysky when I see the world. Between a trusted and reasonably-priced cat sitter for short trips like a weekend getaway (see Bondi Beach – The Perfect Long Weekend for Groundhog Day), and welcoming human grandparents for longer trips, she is well-attended to.
After one such longer trip, I was at my parents house. My mother yelled out, “Dad, Paul, and Billysky come to the table for dinner please.”
I asked, “You really want the cat on the table while we eat?”
She said, “No – she sits in her chair and we all talk.” Early stage dementia crossed my mind. But my dad piped in his agreement, which made me wonder if they both had gone delusional.
How my parents
trained got the cat to sit like this a whole meal is beyond me (because unlike dogs or horses, cats are not domesticated, they are wild animals that just live well with humans).
You have to see it to believe it.
We have a cat we’d like to enroll in the Paul School of Manners.How do we apply?
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