To my knowledge he had never been to Russia, and I can’t recall him studying psychology, but he had perfected to his advantage Pavlov’s experiments.
Demonstrating a superiority to dogs and humans, my cat turned me into a salivating, knee jerk slave to his desires.
Had he been reading from the dozens of hypnosis books which line our shelves?
With a simple movement of his right arm and paw, his calculated movement to pull the decorative ceramic clay fish off the bathroom wall and smash it, had me running to the sink to turn on the tap.
He drank, and then with a degree of self satisfaction only seen in the eyes of Enron’s Kenneth Lay before he was caught, arrested and dead, my cat walks away – thirst satiated, owner controlled, his superiority intact and as inscrutable as ever.
Oh Kashmir. Wise and wonderful small-headed genius cat. My green eyed beauty. How I miss you.