This is a reasonable likeness of our fighter-biter tabby cat, Ms. Miryam Gumdrops.
This is a reasonable likeness of our son's Honda 1000.
Our son's new work takes him to tracks where he both races (one neato sponsorhip -- Michelin -- to his credit in his just-begun career) and tests and reports on others' racing bikes.
Now, we had all, this weekend, planned for a brief holiday at the Delaware/Maryland shore islands. And, of course, Ms. Miryam has stayed home alone before for several days, content, for a time, to have the run of the apartment without her humans cluttering about pretending we own the place, but when our son found that he had to ride north and report to a raceway in Pennsylvania he could not accompany us.
Deciding that Ms. M-G ought not be alone for even a night, and that she'd get on well with Melissa, his cycle colleague, the dogs and cats at her northern Maryland farm where he spent the night, he told us, in a call from the beach, that Ms. Miryam, in a small carrier designed for such outings and strapped to the Honda securely, bongoed along with him, delighted in being, for an afternoon and a night, a first-time outdoor cat, and, next morning, jingle-jangled her way home on the 1000 in the carrier.
When we ourselves returned from the shore, she greeted us at the apartment door with Cattitude, a super air of utter triumph and an unstated You Don't Know What I Knowwww.
Still, she has, as indoor cats often do and as she does whenever we're gone overnight, scolded us loudly for leaving. But her sense of smug triumph remains and no doubt, will endure long after memory fades.