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September 3, 2001 the cattle are lowing It is not entirely clear why I allow my cat to stand on my testicles while she contemplates the position she will assume to nap next to me as I watch television lying in bed.  The pressure hurts, to be sure.  But somehow it would hurt me more were I to deny her comfort and routine.  Besides, the discomfort is short-lived. My dog is terrified by thunder whether it is distant and timid or near and commanding.  We take tranquilizers together; she for a calm in the storm and I as an anodyne against psychic ambush.  I counsel her in soothing tones until the drug takes effect.   In me the storm still rages, but I know it for what it is.  And that knowledge gives me comfort. The animals are at peace.  If I had cattle, they would be lowing.

©  2001 by the beastmaster