Walk, Don’t Run

The cat gets it. It’s sticking with the program that’s hard. She knows that the dog will do no more than give her a casual sniff as she walks by, as long as she walks by (or preferably flops down and lies still). But she’s a naturally anxious cat—she hates it when there are sounds or movement—and sometimes it gets the better of her. As soon as she picks up the pace a bit, the game is on. Off she tears, with the dog on her heels: around the house, across the back yard.

It’s a short game, because the two of them can’t seem to agree on the rules: the cat thinks the game is “catch the cat,” and it’s game over if she doesn’t run up the nearest fence. To the dog, the game is “chase the cat,” and she’s always disappointed when it’s over so fast.

But every few days, for a second or two, an archetype is preserved. If I could just get a mouse to run in front of them…then we’d have a comic strip.