Cat Mandate

This morning I was finishing my tea, searching the internet for news, in other words, preoccupied. My cat, Gigi (short for complaining, grumpy,  grouch), jumped onto the desktop and was most persistent about walking over the keyboard between the computer screen and me--the shortest route to my empty oatmeal bowl. As she passed, she whacked me in the face with her tail. Muttering, I returned my attention to learning more about the features of girly men at the WSJ.

After licking the glass clean, Gigi turned her don't-you-dare-deny me look on me, insisting my hands had nothing better to do than pet her. I usually give in to this bullying insistence. I did this morning, too, giving Gigi the neck and back rubs she demanded. It's the quickest way to convince her to leave me alone. This morning she actually purred, unusual for her. While my hands were occupied, her butt, hind paw or tail bumped the computer mouse. The computer screen flickered and changed to a headline screaming: "The Biblical Mandate to Care for Animals." I swear, she did it on purpose.

As a science fiction author, I always find it interesting how in fiction the human species learns to communicate with alien species. We've had thousands of species surrounding us for centuries and have achieved limited communication with only a select few --a rather dismal record. Just how are we going to achieve alien communication?

GiGi, on the other hand, err...butt, has elected to post her comments in words I can understand.