Well, now, that’s a tough one. I’d like to be a wise old owl (well, maybe not old, although I’m getting there), but that’s a myth and I’m really nothing like an owl. If owls truly were bookish, that would be me. Again, a myth.
The simple fact of the matter is, I’m more like my cats than I care to admit. I have my spurts of activity followed by long rest periods. I like my routine, except for getting up at dark o’clock in the morning.
Now, unlike my cats, I don’t care for seafood. Nothing that lived underwater, nuh-uh. And I do like a little more variety in my meals than they seem to need. But I really don’t need a whole lot of mixing it up in the kitchen, literally or figuratively. I’m content with only some variety. Or let me put it this way, I like the option of variety.
But the kitties and I have another thing in common. They check out the household on a daily basis, and so do I. They’re looking to mark territory, I’m looking to plot my next cleaning move. But you’ll see all three of us wander from room to room.
And I do like yarn. I’m constantly having to keep my cats away from my current knitting project.
I hope I’m as sweet and gentle as my kitties, but I doubt it. I think I have a little sharper edge. Okay, that might make me a little like Mimi. I guess female cats are somewhat feistier.
So, hmmm, if, like some say, my cats think I’m just one giant feline, maybe they’re right.
Image Credits: Owl at computer © Taras Vykhopen–stock.adobe.com; Cat and yarn © kenza–stock.adobe.com
My World With Words 