On cats

She will bite me.

Why do you think I named her (right) Helen? Look at that face. It could launch, at minimum, 4 dinghies.

At noon Helen vaulted onto my desk and splayed herself across a set of freshly-sharpened pencils. Then she commenced to roll around. I refused to make eye contact. This is how the game unfolds: I ignore the cat until she does something physically un-ig…