Jacky with a "Y"

Canada

I couldn’t help but feel as if I were being watched, and looked up from my book to find a football sized ball of fur placed beside me, two little green orbs staring into my soul. So I stared back. What do you want? Go away. But it just stared at me. After a moment I returned my gaze to the pages in my lap, but the fur ball was not yet satisfied. With an insulted ‘murr’ the fur climbed over my shoulder clumsily, coming to rest on top of the book, all twenty razor fishhooks fully extended into the pages. My initial reaction was to brush the fur ball away and scold her in my alien language, but I hesitated. Surely one should value the friendship of another living creature above the preservation of mashed up tree pulp and ink. That is right, right? So instead I extended my hand towards the fur ball who pressed its tiny little face against my palm, and I smiled. Animals were excellent friends. They are wonderful teachers of behavior… real, universal behaviors that come with instinct as opposed to the quirky short circuited reactions of the modern human. “Very intelligent fur ball,” I thought to myself as the fur ball hopped off the book and strutted across the hardwood, stopping to inspect an random spot on the floor. She stared inquisitively for a moment before lowering her head and cautiously licking the spot. She thought for a second and twitched her tail, then continued out of the room. Very intelligent fur balls, indeed. Still, I couldn’t help wondering what that spot tasted like.

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