I admit it … I have three too many cats. But I adore them. They were all rescue cats — first Einstein, then Coco (so named after Coco Chanel), and most recently, Boomerang.
I wrote about cats quite some time ago in a print column — you can scan the snippets below or read the piece here: Must Love Cats.


Cats are patient judges of character. They’re not unfriendly; they just won’t curl up next to someone until they’ve got that person figured out.
Sitting still as statues, giving you the hard stare, cats are busily assessing character: Is this someone who will patiently clean up the fur balls I conveniently leave in the path of bare feet? Is this someone who will slip me a little catnip when I’m feeling mousy?
Eyes half-closed, tails twitching languorously back and forth, cats are internally debating fundamental questions of existence: Is this someone who will leave me alone when I’m cranky, and scratch my ears nonstop when I’m not? Is this someone who will never, ever ask me to act like a dog when he knows damn well I’m a cat?
Cats are wicked independent and self-reliant. They can catch their own mice for dinner and land on their feet after a fall. And besides, maybe I can learn something from their secret felinosophy, which boils down to these simple words:
Treat yourself like you’re the cat’s meow, and the rest of the world will too.
How about walking poor Einstein and Coco on the leash too?.I think you are playing favorites with your boy Boomer .Bo looks scared to me.:-)
No, I’m not playing favorites!! I do walk Einstein, but Coco doesn’t like to walk on a leash. I only play favorites with people! 😉