But it's so peaceful here ... what was I saying?

Say what you will about denial, keeping one's head in the sand can be very pleasant, if you can keep it there. This sock may be too small, but la la la la I can't hear you I just keep knitting on it, isn't it pretty? I like the yarn, the way it's mostly one color (a nice, rich, dark blue) but has a sort of subtle heathered change to it, and, and,

try it on?

I guess I could do that.

But then if it's too small I'll know, and then I'll be out of my soft peaceful denial, boom into harsh reality. That doesn't sound nice.

Plus, I've been knitting it at work, and working on something else at home (little secret project), and I'm not so much interested in stripping off my sock at work to try it on. Well, not that I couldn't try it on at home just because I haven't been knitting it at home, but, but, well.

Hmm. Can I distract you?

Here's a chicken-and-egg question: are our pets weird because living with us makes them weird, or because we select weird pets?

Laurie's discussion of how her four cats are four aspects of her personality fascinated me, and got me thinking about Pan and Harold, and if the same is true of them and of me. Is it? Let's see.

Facts first. Pan and Harold are both boys, fixed, and will be 9 years old around April first (estimated by the Humane Society in Charlotte, where I got them). They are both officially Domestic Short Hairs, the mutts of cats if you ask me. Pan is a gray tabby, Harold a black-and-white cow-kitty.

Pan can be very friendly and loving, on his own terms (hmmm). He likes to knead his paws into one's soft spots, and to bite affectionately, and is shocked, yes shocked, when this is not appreciated. Not that lack of appreciation changes his behavior one bit (hmmm again), though he can get very indignant, and sulks at me from across the room (I don't think I like where this is going).

He likes schedules to be followed: he's supposed to be fed when I get home from work, and so what if the food bowl isn't empty? Put more in anyway, because it's that time. He's spoiled by me, and I can't deny that I'm spoiled by my parents, still, though I'd like to think I'm not as spoiled as he is. But I may be fooling myself. (See: denial.)

Is this getting weird, or is it just me?

He likes things to be his idea, too. If he wants to be on my lap, and I sit down and lift him onto my lap, he will step off my lap, turn around, and step right back on, to make the point that he's there by his own choice, and not because I put him there.

Do I do that? Anyone?

Harold? Harold is both wildly affectionate and more self-sufficient than Pan. He can take care of himself emotionally for longer periods of time (relatively speaking), but when he wants lovin', look out. He was a runt, and I think it's because of that that he can't full-out meow, but he has a cute little mew that really grabs me. One pet sitter nicknamed him the love hog, for his habit of shoving in front of Pan to get all the attention. He's very relaxed on the lap, to the point where I have to hold him on or he'll melt right off and bonk onto the floor.

Harold doesn't like loud noises, which I don't either, but he doesn't get used to the same loud noise no matter how often he hears it. For example, where we lived before was a dead-end street, so the garbage truck (weekly) and recycling truck (every other week) would back down the street to pick up, and the trucks would make that loud, annoying BEEP-BEEP-BEEP all the way down the street. This scared Harold as much the last week we were there as the first week. Panic, running, under the bed, and it's not that I didn't feel bad for him, but come on, it never hurt him, we lived there for three and a half years, you don't have to like it but chill a little please!

He's actually really smart. Someone gave them a toy once, years ago, the kind with a string that you pull and the toy vibrates (don't ask me why; it's supposed to look like a squirrel, it scared Pan quite a bit when it moved), and it took Harold less than a minute to work out that if he held it with his paws, he could pull the string with his teeth and make it vibrate. Scary smart. Hard to remember that I chose him partly because he was so small and runty that I thought he might not get picked by anyone else.

Well, I may or may not be a split personality, but I don't see myself as Harold. Nothing personal, Harold, love you!

Pan, though? Yeah.

Interesting.