This Fish Needs A Bicycle

fetch!

When I first began spending evenings working on the book, Sir Hal would express his displeasure at being ignored by acting out. Toys in the water dish, laying down on my keyboard, wrapping his little furry self around my ankles and biting my bare feet. And when those didn’t divert my attention from the glowing computer screen, he’d sit in front of my monitor and stare at me.

“Get down, Hal.”
Stare.
“Down!”
Stare. (Turns out, cats don’t blink. Ever.)

It got old pretty quick.

Now, Hal is a charming guy. And not just as cats go. As creatures go. And in his infinite charm, he found a new way in which to get my attention while I’m plucking away at my keyboard at night. He learned to play fetch. It took me several times to realize it was a deliberate action, dropping the little toy mouse on my foot. Distracted, I’d pick it up and toss it into the next room. Scramble, pounce, trot, plop. There it was on my foot again.

We were playing fetch!

The best part of it was that he started this game last week and hasn’t stopped playing. I wake up with the little mouse on my pillow. It’s on the bathmat when I get out of the shower. Plop, it’s at my feet as I’m making dinner. And I laud His Excellency with praise every single time, like it’s the cleverest thing ever to have happened. Forget that dogs have been doing it since the beginning of time. I thinks it’s damn cute. And it won’t get old nearly as quickly as Sit and Stare.

Not speaking of my cat:

In twenty-four hours, I’ll be at JFK, sitting next to Jen saying, “Can you believe we’re doing this?” I know that’s what I’ll be saying, because that’s been the content of our emails for the last several weeks. I’m still feeling thoroughly unprepared. I did stop playing fetch last night long enough to find my passport. That’s a good thing, right?

I have one of those pouches to foil pickpockets. I have train schedules for Spain and Morocco, and thanks to Jen, reservations in both countries. These are all good things.

I have a notebook to journal in, too, which will have to do as a stand-in for the blog. Jen has forbidden me from blogging on our trip. You’ll feel the detox tremors all the way across the Atlantic, I assure you. Benjamin has volunteered to guest-edit (he promises not to write about his album!). We’re working out those details, but even if this page is blank for a week, promise you won’t forget me?

What happens when Stupid & Fancy™ meets foreign and scary? I don’t know, but I can’t wait to find out. Jen and Heather: Morocco 2004.

Posted by This Fish at October 28, 2004 05:59 PM