Power Play

All living beings like to feel as if they are in charge of something. Not necessarily dominant. Just in charge of something.

Look at the pride on a four-year-old’s face when she creates a work of art in crayons. Or a bride when her second meatloaf turns out to be delicious. Or any kid when they learn how to ride a bike.

You’d think it would be easy for cats – especially my cats. They’re pretty much in charge of everything in my house – where to sleep, when to eat, when to get my undivided attention. Yet they still want more.

At least Guinness does. He’s a 13-year-old grey-brown tabby. His adopted brother, Herbie, is a 14-year-old quasi Siamese (same coloring, blue eyes but an absolute snuggle addict) who sleeps a lot. And I spend too much time at the computer.

An inventive animal, Guinness is always thinking up games – fetch, catch and other romps. But none of this was enough.

In my upstairs bathroom, I have curtains suspended on tension rods hanging in front of three shelves. Once a day, Guinness has walked into that bathroom, walked over to the curtains and quite deliberately knocked the bottom curtain down. Then walked away.

The other day he came in only to discover that the bottom curtain was already down.

He sat there for a moment. Pondering.

Then he got up on his hind legs and, after several attempts, knocked the second curtain down. Then he walked away. In charge. Empowered.

And pretty funny.