Crazy Gracie

I have a cat that I routinely refer to as "Crazy Gracie" although her real name is simply Grace. This cat just ain't right but, as most folks who know me often point out, if she were right she probably wouldn't live with me. I don't think that any of my four-legged, furry children are quite right. In fact, we typically refer to our place as the home for misfits, unemployables, and geriatrics.

Grace is insane because she never seems to learn from her mistakes. She jumps onto the couch right next to the little old arthritic dog who can't hear well and only has one eye (and that one has a small cataract) and seems stunned each time when he gets startled and snaps, growls, or otherwise acts unwelcoming to her sudden appearance. She also just sits there when he does it as if he won't accidentally hurt her.

Today, she walked into the living room where I sat on the couch and had a completely forlorn look on her face. She then let out an unearthly wail worthy of a Hank Williams song as if she were left alone and had no friend left on earth. I spoke to her and she looked relieved then jumped onto the arm of the couch where she proceeded to sit for about an hour and periodically rub her face on mine as if reassuring herself she was not alone.

Now I call that crazy.