Okay, I love Persia.  I really do.  But today I was restless as I'm getting
ready for my trip to see John, my old/new love, in just a couple of days.  I
kept going to the computer room to use the phone to see how the art show was
going.  She'd follow me into that room.  I'd chat for a few minutes, answer
some email, send some email, then go back to the living room.  She'd follow
me and jump up on her kitty-cradle.

Then I'd go to the bedroom to see what else I needed to pack or unpack (I'm
excited *and* nervous about this, obviously!).  She'd follow me and loaf in
front of the sliding door.  Took a bath, washed my hair; she had to come in
and let me know that form of bathing is simply unnatural and protest loudly
while sitting on the toilet lid.

Back to the living room, going to read a bit.  She comes back out and jumps
on the cradle again.  I finally wear myself out and take a nap; she curls up
at my feet on the couch.  60 minutes later the phone rings - danged
telemarketer (on Memorial Day!)  I look at the clock, hmmm, I need to eat
something.  Head to the kitchen - MEOW?  Want a kitty treat?  OW-NOW!!! Give
her a treat.  Heat up some soup.  Back to the living room.  She's back to
the cradle.

And so it goes *All Day Long*.  You really don't have to follow me every
minute, Persia.  The apartment is only SO big and I only left once for 10
minutes, when you were meatloafing in the sunshine and couldn't care less.

Still, she persists.  I love her, but I nearly tripped over her several
times today.  I suspect it will only get worse as the day for my departure
approaches.  As my friend Scott McKenzie's cat, Spider, wrote to Persia
after I had my reunion with John after 23 years:  "Please be careful when
navigating territory anywhere near your human charge. She is in a state,
known mainly to female humans, variously described as "lovesick," "euphoric"
and "dazed." While in this condition she might very well walk right into
and/or over you.  She might even forget to feed you!"

I won't forget to feed her, but I do tend to be walking into/over her.  If
she wasn't there every time I turned around, this wouldn't happen.

Jill