Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Recently my pal Anne Marie returned from Japan, bearing the gift of a "Piperoid" paper pipe toy. For a few days my gift lay near my easy chair, unopened. Then one afternoon I took about an hour to cut, fold, and assemble his tiny colorful tubes, following directions to form a clever little robot. Ariadne, our feline prima donna, watched from a distance, her eyes narrowed into angry squints. Ari generally doesn't like visitors, and she's especially unimpressed with a robot interloper to her domain. Can they ever get along?
Apparently not. For the past few evenings, Jenny and I have awoken to find Ariadne whining and complaining and stretching out her little paw, pointing at the robot in a sort of "J'accuse" motion. Tipped water bowls, trashed chew toys, pilfered cat nip: always his fault, she complains. And sure enough whenever there's a commotion in our home, I'll always see the robot standing near the kitty. His nonchalant expression suggests that Ari is trying to frame our new houseguest.
But pictures don't lie.