In the apartment building behind mine lives a large tuxedo boy named
Zeus. His white muzzle is centered perfectly on his black face, making
him a very pretty cat. He loves to snooze on the back stairs, in the
sun. When I see him from my kitchen, I call out the window, but other
than a faint ear twitch, he doesn't give me the time of day.

Recently I was outside in the back, and I saw him sitting on the
concrete patio. As usual, he totally ignored me, although I was
talking and cooing at him like a fool. One of the tenants came out
the back door, and I asked if he was her cat. She said yes, but that
she couldn't stand him. I was incredulous. "You *can't stand* him?!
But he's so gorgeous!" (As if that made a difference.) She explained
that she doesn't like cats. Poor Zeus! Stuck living with someone who
doesn't appreciate his feline magnificence. No wonder he's not very
friendly. I think he's her husband's cat, actually. I've met the guy
before, and he seems fond of the boy.

Today I was driving in my neighborhood and went past a house with a
big front picture window. Right in the center was a huge, elaborate
cat tree, and draped over the top of it was a sleeping black kitty.
I actually stopped my car and got out to take a look. (Yes, I do
things like this. :)) But although I sounded the universal here-kitty
call (kissy noises), the cat didn't move a muscle. And I'm sure it
would have heard me if it had been at all inclined. I do this with
the cats who sit in the windows of my own apartment building, including
my cats. They all respond to noises I make from the street, even the
ones on the second floor. So far, nobody's called the men in white
coats to come collect me.

Anyway, I soon decided that I'd better get out of there, before the
people started wondering why I was standing in front of their house,
staring into their window and making strange sounds.

A day in the life of a cat-obsessed slave. :)

Joyce