oedipus' sights unseen

this must have been when she was fussily stomping in and out of the doorway, trying desperately to get me to put down the camera and to attend to her... the mouse's original name is mini, as she was the runt of her litter, but i began calling her mouse because of the way she skeedaddles accross bare floors, on all claws, making small sounds, not unlike the way my mouse tristain used to do when i released him into the grass to play or to clean his house (a large fish tank with a wheel upon which he used to run whenever anyone rode the exercise bicycle) -- he was vety nervous of being out of his controlled environment... and, who could blame him, he was a laboratory mouse i had liberated from my "llife science" class in order to spare him the machinations of my fellow seventh graders; after witnessing what they did to the goldfish, i wasn't taking any chances with tristain... besides, i had always wanted a mouse for a pet... he was a "first-floor" pet, which meant that i couldn't keep him in my room, but had to keep him in a largely unused room in which the aforementioned exercise bike was located... when i did let him out when the 'rents were out, he tended to skedaddle across the kitchen floor emiting just the type of noises that the mouse does when she skedaddles, and she does a lot of skedaddling, as she is afraid of sneezes, coughs, sudden movements, loud expletives, and much else of my daily routine)

she also has a soft spot in my heart, as she is a red-headed step-child, left behind by her original owner, who told me that the reason i had been left with the mouse (without prior warning) was that i was really the only person she had ever shown true affection towards... it split her from her brother, max, short for maximum, he being the first-born of the litter... i wasn't too sorry that max left with his mistress, as he had repeatedly tried to kill me during the time we co-habited...

i don't think of myself as my cats' owner -- i'm far too familiar with them to suffer that delusion; i think of myself as simply their cohabitant, which makes them very happy, because i only interact with them on their own terms -- believe me, when they want to be invisible, they can be quieter than, well, a mouse...

or is it just that i'm a crazy cat person? i do live with 3, but 2 of them picked me up on the mean streets of jersey city, whilst the third was, at the time, unknowingly foisted upon me... right now, as if he knows i am writing about cats (but who probably just wants me to get up and give him a treat) clovis (who has yet to make an appearance in this album) is on his hind legs, one forepaw firmly planted in the middle of my back, the other tapping me on the shoulder...

which reminds me, i haven't had breakfast yet, and i was up early this morning...