Sunday morning. As in many homes across North America, we ease into the day by reading the New York Times. Our brains slowly crank into gear as all three of us flip through our favourite sections, whether it be op-ed, arts coverage, or the style section to determine if anyone in the wedding notices isn't a lawyer or financial analyst.
Wait...did I say three of us?
It's true: besides Sarah and I, Haruki also reads the morning's headlines. Of all the newspapers that float through our homestead, it's the New York Times that draws his attention. He jumps up on the bed and promptly plants himself on whatever section is lying flat...even if I'm in the middle of reading it (especially if I’m in the middle of reading it). We've figured out that if we toss him a section neither of us is drawn to immediately (business or sports), he'll snuggle up to that cozy newsprint and stretch out on those column inches.
And yet there are times where I'm convinced he is trying to read the paper. He stares down at the paper, as if he's scanning the headlines. He flips the pages with his paws, looks for a minute, then flips again. We knew he was a smart beastie, but we may be underestimating his intelligence. Perhaps his purring sounds aren't contentment at finding a comfy spot to rest with us, but his attempt to comment (in cat-ese) about American politics, mutual funds or the batting order of the Yankees. - JB, SO