Up till now I haven’t mentioned the other furry four-legged creatures who reside with K and me.
Rita was K’s cat when he lived in Ithaca. Named after a hurricane, she is quite the whirlwind-with energy to spare. In Ithaca she went outdoors and built up a reputation as a fierce hunter, except for baby chipmunks, which she captured and brought indoors to play with but never to kill.
OC is my cat. I found him one night living under a dumpster in Jersey City. I had just returned from the gym and my endorphin levels must have been high. I can find no other reason why I rescued him on the spur of the moment. I had another cat at the time (now deceased) and bestowed on the new kitty the temporary name OC (Other Cat). I didn’t want to select a permanent name until I knew he was healthy and disease free. He checked out fine but when I suggested other names, everyone liked OC so the name stuck. A bit of a slug, OC prefers cats to people. K refers to him as a cat food processing plant.
So how does Pablo get on with his fellow companions? Mostly he ignores them. But every now and then he feels compelled to assert his authority and chases them to put them in their place. Secretly I suspect he’s a tiny bit afraid of Rita. If she’s stretched out in the upstairs hallway he won’t go past her. And once, finding her curled up in his dog bed—which he never uses btw—he whined until I came over to investigate and then with backup assured, he charged, chasing her away.