By Phyllis Galowitz

We’re watching one of our favorite shows, Nature, on PBS. This night it was about honey badgers. I didn’t know any- thing about them. They don’t seem very attractive to me, but they are highly intel- ligent and most destructive creatures. Their intelligence makes them able to get through or over any barriers, and their fearlessness keeps them from predators. They love honey and particularly the grubs in the honey cages and will destroy the cages to get at them, which makes them a menace to beekeepers. Neverthe- less, Lili found them quite amusing to watch and tried her hardest to climb in- side the TV screen to play with them. But having failed, she’s wandered off to see what other amusement she can find.

She’s an indoor cat. Therefore, she’s never experienced the battles or wonders of nature, but has to content her- self by being an observer, only through windows, and is mostly dependent on me for entertainment. She’s quite independent, though, and allows any show of  affection only when she’s amenable. She’s afraid of people in general. When anyone comes to our usually quiet house, she immediately runs to my bed, where she hides under the quilt until they’ve gone. I think she’s autistic, but then I’m not sure what makes cats behave the way they do.

When we’re alone in the house, she’s a snuggler and likes to be wherever I am, especially sitting very close to my right thigh. Never the left! If I’m reading, she climbs onto my lap, on top of the book, which I must extract from under her and hold above her head to read. Sometimes she prefers to be alone and I can’t find her secret hiding places. She doesn’t come if I call her name, but no matter where she’s hiding, if she hears, “Would you like a treat?” she suddenly appears out of nowhere!

I know she can hear very well because, returning from wherever I may have been, as I put my key in the basement door, I hear her faint meow and her scampering through the house to greet me as I open the door, then run down the basement steps and sit on the bottom one, staring at me with her iridescent, chartreuse eyes, as if to say, “Catch me if you can!”

She sleeps a lot during the day and wanders through the house at night, leaving a trail of cat hair on her favorite places to nap. And in the morning, as the sun streams into the bedroom window, she jumps up on the bed, walks across me, as if I wasn’t there, announcing, “It’s a new day. Wake up! It’s time for breakfast!”~

By Phyllis Galowitz

We’re watching one of our favorite shows, Nature, on PBS. This night it was about honey badgers. I didn’t know anything about them. They don’t seem very attractive to me, but they are highly intelligent and most destructive creatures. Their intelligence makes them able to get through or over any barriers, and their fearlessness keeps them from predators. They love honey and particularly the grubs in the honey cages and will destroy the cages to get at them, which makes them a menace to beekeepers. Nevertheless, Lili found them quite amusing to watch and tried her hardest to climb inside the TV screen to play with them. But having failed, she’s wandered off to see what other amusement she can find.

She’s an indoor cat. Therefore, she’s never experienced the battles or wonders of nature, but has to content herself by being an observer, only through windows, and is mostly dependent on me for entertainment. She’s quite independent, though, and allows any show of affection only when she’s amenable. She’s afraid of people in general. When anyone comes to our usually quiet house, she immediately runs to my bed, where she hides under the quilt until they’ve gone. I think she’s autistic, but then I’m not sure what makes cats behave the way they do.

When we’re alone in the house, she’s a snuggler and likes to be wherever I am, especially sitting very close to my right thigh. Never the left! If I’m reading, she climbs onto my lap, on top of the book, which I must extract from under her and hold above her head to read. Sometimes she prefers to be alone and I can’t find her secret hiding places. She doesn’t come if I call her name, but no matter where she’s hiding, if she hears, “Would you like a treat?” she suddenly appears out of nowhere!

I know she can hear very well because, returning from wherever I may have been, as I put my key in the basement door, I hear her faint meow and her scampering through the house to greet me as I open the door, then run down the basement steps and sit on the bottom one, staring at me with her iridescent, chartreuse eyes, as if to say, “Catch me if you can!”

She sleeps a lot during the day and wanders through the house at night, leaving a trail of cat hair on her favorite places to nap. And in the morning, as the sun streams into the bedroom window, she jumps up on the bed, walks across me, as if I wasn’t there, announcing, “It’s a new day. Wake up! It’s time for breakfast!”

I’m so glad to see her, my Lili.~