On Being Cat Strated

The heat is again oppressive. I am dripping with the AC blowing on me as I write this. Does talking about your medical stuff come with old age? Thinking back on the weekend picnic I can only imagine how the support group must be, with all the gory details likely including urine and fecal details out the wahzoo. My lymphodema is a point of curiosity. The muscle I apparently pulled scraping the gutters or lifting the punching bag or some other worthy endeavor is definitely getting better with the passing of days. I walked a mile or so this morning, unable to make the pace but able to make the distance.
I have also realized I now respond to non verbal commands from 4 legged family members.
The Cat’s Furtive Glance
Told me the door to the laundry room where the food and litter pan were was closed.
Told me that the other cat was on the porch and wanted in.
Told me she was afraid.
Told me she wanted to play.
Told me to leave her alone.
Told me she was hungry.
Told me she wanted out.
Told me she wanted in.
I’ve been cat strated as Rex would say.
Another unintended consequence is my new found relationship with the house cats, who graciously shared their domicile and keepers time with me during my darkest hours. They have trained me well as you can see. Ah if only we could bottle this technique that trains humans so effectively without vocalization of the commands. Of course that is not to say they are not crybabies at times but for the most part the cats are quietly adhering to their daily routine and schedule as close as they can, and training us to do our part to keep that schedule in order. They have both proven to be good company and I am glad they are part of the family and all of that, but there is certainly something quite different about these two. Our house cat previous to these two was Claws, a Siamese of sorts that lived nearly 20 years, ruling inside and out with fully armed toes (hence his name). From a kitten I (first ran over HIM with my truck) trained him like I would dog and started his life with a daily dose of German Shepherd in the garage until he got use to it.
These two cats have resisted my efforts to treat them with the same glory. I find myself trained like a dog. So it is that the cat can command and I will respond with no more than a furtive glance.