Nick and I were out of town for a few days last week. Since Sophie is fed daily, we need to impose on a family and friends to take care of her whenever we are gone. We have a backup caretaker, and a backup backup caretaker—but both were also out of town last weekend. My friend Becky, who lives in the same town, offered to stop in and take care of her. She recently rescued a cat of her own, and she's got a little kitty fever going on. (Of course, it may just be allergies.)



Becky has been in my home before, several times actually. Unfortunately, she has never stayed long enough for Sophie to decide whether or not she's safe. Our cat yearns to be social—sometimes aggressively loving—but she still has a knee-jerk (paw-jerk?) reaction of fear with new people. You just need to sit down for awhile, keep your voice soft, and pay her absolutely no attention at all. I guarantee you that she'll be drawn to you within minutes.

I warned Becky of this so that she wouldn't take it personally if my cat got one look of her and bolted. When new people so much as look at Sophie, she flattens her ears and sprints toward a hiding place as if the very devil is on her tail. (And I thought that I didn't like attention!)

We arrived back in Madison Tuesday night. I talked with Becky the next day when I picked up my key. As I suspected, Sophie didn't let her near. She said that Sophie took "evasive action" when she so much as breathed in her direction. I keep snickering at the phrase "evasive action" as applied to my fuzzy, pampered house cat…but basically, Sophie spent the weekend completely alone.

I suppose that explains why she almost took me to the ground in her excited vigor when I first walked through the door. Oh, Sophie. If only you would be so capriciously cute for everyone who stopped by…