January 15, 2009 It's Saturday Afternooon, You're not at home

It's Saturday afternoon, and I'm not home. I'm elsewhere, it matters not where.
I have left my Siamese cat in charge. As I was leaving the house, I lined up all my fur children and looked at them, one by one. Doing a tail count before I leave the house is imperative to my sanity. For if I don't see each one before I leave, I will imagine that one of my furchildren has somehow gotten out, or is caught somewhere, or is in dire need of a snack, and I am not there to appease.

So as I was leaving the house, my furchidren lined up (or lounging about, whichever) I looked from one set of brown eyes to the next, to the green eyes of my orange kitty, to the golden eyes of the white one, and finally into the blue, blue eyes of my Siamese. "Maggie" I pronounced, "You are in charge." And that was that.

The job description of The One In Charge is simple: the others must listen to him or her and acquiese to his or her every command. The catch is, each command must be to get along, stay out of eachothers way, and go lie down somewhere. Staying out of trouble is optional.

Maggie is the littlest, and so putting her in charge is truly an exercise in futility, were it be a "for real" assignment. But since it's only a token, it means very little. But make no mistake, though Maggie is the smallest, she is, without a doubt, the one with the most ATTITUDE. She has a Siamese voice, with a Siamese body, and a Siamese mind-set. This means that she can sound louder, meaner, braver, bigger and more ferocious than any tiger. When she is annnoyed, the whole house knows about it. If she doesn't want another cat on the bed, she lets everyone know it, and everyone runs for cover.

So it's Saturday afternoon, and I have left my Siamese in charge. I hope she doesn't kill everyone.