A conversation with BZ the cat

BZ: Meow!
Reid: Come here.
Scratch me.

Lazy cat.
Higher. Mmmm. Harder. Gggggg. Right there.
So, Cat, we’ve been here for a couple weeks now. How do you like your new home?
Not too shabby. There’s lots of places to perch and plenty of fresh dirt. It took me awhile to figure out that we’ve moved, though, and for weeks, I was spending my days at the Green house and just eating and sleeping here.
I know exactly what you mean.
And the new dog over there gives me the shakes. I don’t like her at all.
Maybe if you just tried to be friendly once in awhile. You like to groom, so try grooming her?
Or maybe not. That bitch chased me up a tree, you know.
I saw that. And when you got back that night, you had a gob of crud in your fur that I couldn’t get out. What did you do, shit in your pants?
Rub me a little lower, please. Down. Over. Mmmm.
Nope. I ran up a tree and got full of pitch. Then I watched the dog charge by right below me. Tara got chewed out but, when I finally came home, it was all “Poor little BZ. Are you OK? Have some extra kibble.”

You do like to play with your food, don’t you?
Other than that, it’s a nice place. I’ll get used to it.
What about you? Do you like it?
It’s good. It’s turned out beautiful, but it’s kind of elaborate. It sure is a lot of work!
You’re making it a lot of work, Reid.  Why don’t you just keep it simple? Buy some cheap doors, hire a college kid. You can buy towel bars in the store, you know.
Yes, but you’ve still got to put them in, and then it wouldn’t be Art, would it?
I don’t get it. Give me a pillow, some kibble, and an occasional bird in my turd, and I’m a happy cat. But you, you’ve always got to be building crazy stuff from scratch, and usually the hard way.
And it takes me forever,  doesn’t it? It’s always an adventure, but I get it done.
I’m trying to try everything once, and do it nicely. And as long as I can pull it off, why not?

Right, but so far, it’s looking like there’s nothing you can’t pull off, so you’re doing everything, and you’re doing it all the hard way. You’re going to kill yourself, Reid, and then who’s going to rub my neck?
Luci, if you’d let her.
You’re right, though, and I’m glad the frantic pace has given way to one that’s merely aerobic. I’ll do this for a couple more months and then I’ll look back and shake my head and marvel about it, and brag about my mistakes.
And you’ve made some good ones, huh? Remember the time you installed the square sink base sideways so the shelves fit vertically?
Yup. That was stupid, but it’s no big deal. Michaelangelo carved David a little cross eyed, you know, but nobody notices.

And he’s 9 feet tall, too, just like your doorways. Face it, Reid, you’re no Michaelangelo.
So what’s next on your list?

Doors. Gutters. Bark. Another bathroom. Whatever strikes my fancy.
Do you fancy we could make some dinner? From scratch?
Would you settle for some extra kibble?


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