As has been pointed out, a good soak helps lighten the weight of the world, so I decided I was due a nice hot bath.

Presto pretty much wanders in, sighs at my weirdness, and takes up a post at the bathroom door.

Little Feet, on the other hand, still isn't sure what to do about my obvious sociopathic tendency to submerge in water, so he walks up to the tub, front feet on the edge, and stares.

After a few moments of this, he hunkers down, his front 'elbows' down on the edge, so he can get a better look, just to be sure. Eventually, he jumps up on the edge of the tub and sits there.

Now my tub has a reasonably wide rim at the back, with a small-cat sized space in the corners. Little Feet is *mostly* a small cat, and *mostly* fits into the corner, although one hind paw keeps slipping and trying to keep a grip on the slippery porcelain.

Well, seeing this, and remembering all the tales of doom and destruction in the bathtub (grin), I hold my arm and hand up at a level to give him a little extra support.

So what does he do? He tries to back out of the corner, slipping and sliding, and threatening to fall into the tub with me.

Taking the better part of valor, I pick him up, and sit him down on the floor, where he gets back into the hunker down position again, bats at the water a couple of times, then takes up a post opposite Presto while I soak and read the new Robert Jordan book.

By the way, I love my library. They have an on-line system where I can put books on hold, and when I see a new book at Barnes & Noble, they usually have it at the library. This week, I have "The Mark" (latest in an interestingly *good* Christian apocalyptic series), and "Winter Heart" (book nine of a very good, beyond-Tolkienesque series).

Now, if I can avoid damage fees by not dipping the books, I'll be doing well (grin).

Copyright © Mark Edwards
December 1, 2000