Every day Nezbit the cat waits impatiently for me to fill her food bowl. It is her only priority at seven in the morning. I, on the other hand, must go through the usual human rituals of preparing myself to deal with other (sometimes judgmental) humans during the course of the upcoming day.

Nezbit, how should I say, was pawned off on me some seven years ago by the lovely Diana, then a college student, on the pretext that Nezbit would not be welcomed by the staff of Indiana Central University unless she was real good at playing basketball. Diana has since gone on with her life - graduated, married, gone back to Graduate School, separated, and is presently the proud owner of two new cats. Nezbit is now a fixture of my life. Nezbit is committed.

I, on the other hand, do not commit. This goes for all my relationships with other creatures be they human or animal. Sure, Nezbit has happened to share the same living space with me for the past seven years. OK. Yeah, so I squander twenty some dollars every six months for a big bag of Iams - big deal!  Yeah, so she has this blanket here where she sleeps.  So what!

Last Winter I took Nezbit to the veterinarian down the street.  She had developed this gross skin rash on her back near her tail.  It did not seem to bother her much, but it bothered me, so I took her.  She was a big hit with the Vet. 

"What a big girl!," they said, as they probed her butt with the thermometer.  I smirked when I made that observation. 

"Eat shit and die," she lashed back with a tail flick.

To her credit, Nezbit does not exhibit the usual traits common to most cats, which tend to be frowned upon.  She never climbs up onto counter tops or table tops.  She never sleeps on top of the television set no matter how warm and comfy it is.  She stays well clear of the garbage, the toilet paper roll, the curtains, and other various and sundry, and mostly breakable objects which usually must be "cat proofed" in most houses.

She does do the scratching thing, but it is limited solely to the back of one cheap wicker chair I got from a garage sale.  No big deal.  Oh, and outside it's the wooden post on the deck by the steps. That was made for scratching.