Yesterday I mused over how my cat, Spike, thinks he owns the world. He most definitely has a vested stake in my music studio, where he likes to summon his feline ancestry and pretend he is much larger than he is. Since this week is hellacious (my student’s midterms, a chamber series for which I’m on the board is having their season premiere, and I’m singing at the inauguration of my college’s new president and “practice” seems to be an elusive entity), I’m going light this week.
Today’s Spike Shaming was prompted by my water glass, which he likes to get all up in when he thinks I’m not watching. I never drink from glasses that have been left unattended in my studio. Here’s why:
Just my cat, literally all up in my business.
Also, during one of Spike’s secret speakeasy quests, what he thought was water was actually clear pedialyte, which I was downing due to a recent run-in with eggs (which I did not know I was allergic to at the time). Spike did not enjoy drinking briny water.