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Animal Magnetism

The highlight of a long weekend of work was an encounter with a very friendly barn cat. I approached this fellow warily with my best cat manners, but he was friendliness itself.

At one point when I squatted to pet him, he hopped up on my legs and attempted to sprawl. I had to pry all twenty claws off before I could stand up. A little later I was talking on the phone near a fence, and he hopped up on the fence nearby. When I wasn’t looking he sprang onto my shoulder and seemed content to perch there, wrapped around me like a boa.

He was a "tuxedo" (mostly black with a white bib), which is what I was wearing at the time. He blended in so well that from a distance someone thought I looked like a hunchback. After five minutes of this I explained that I had to go to work.

On the ride home, we were talking about poodle crosses (Labradoodles and Goldendoodles). “Talking about” here means repeating the names and giggling (we were tired and extremely punchy). Then we started to make up other crosses. St. Bernoodle. German Stroodle. Pit Boodle. Cocker Spoodle. Siberian Hoodle. Rottwoodle. Etc.

If I could turn serious for a moment here...

OK. Done.

We hit the Waffle House twice on this trip, and they redeemed themselves after a substandard meal three weeks ago.

Tonight we recreated my favorite burger from Copa II, the Mediterranean, just because we happened to have the two ingredients in house: olive tapenade and goat cheese. It’s good to be home.

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