Gene really doesn’t care very much about Obama or the economy - maybe it’s because he’s still a kitten at three and a half years old, a trait that drives the other cats nuts. I don’t have to pry his blackberry out of his paws, and he’s not addicted to the internets like the others.

What he does like to do is take a walk with me, and most of the time if I am seriously walking and stalking, I have to lock him up in the house. Or sneak off from a location where he’s not. Even that doesn’t work, on occasion, and he’s a very good tracker.

But yesterday’s walk was going to be relatively short and the destination not so far away, so it was a pleasure to let him accompany me.

If cats can find a way to do it, they’ll always walk on elevated surfaces in preference to touching the ground. Here he discovered a route that I’ve never taken: cross the creek over a big fallen oak, hop up to the rootball, and then proceed along last year’s pine fall.



No way around this one - up the steep hill, grounded.



It’s not all roses all the time. We do have our little arguments. He’s an under-the-covers cat, and occasionally takes sharp exception to movement. Sometimes he also gets thrown out of bed.

Added: I’d intended to mention this but forgot. Note the tail. With cats, the tail is the single most important indicator of mood. Gene’s is not completely in the air but it’s close. If I were to have said something to him at that moment it would have stuck straight up. A cat with a tail in the air is a very happy cat. I mention this because we at least have the vestige (if not more, for the occasional human) of a tail. Does what’s left of your tailbone do anything when you’re happy?