The Paw's On The Other Foot

So yesterday I was fascinated by sounds that are going extinct. Today I heard a sound I can't recall ever hearing before: a cat sneezing. Now I've long been fascinated by human sneezes, but, truth be told, a cat's sneeze doesn't come close to measuring up. It sounds like a distant whisk broom delicately whisking away hairs from a man's collar at the barber shop. It doesn't even warrant a "God bless you." Maybe a "third-tier angel bless you" or a "priest in Peoria bless you." But anyway, as I think I've mentioned before, due to circumstances beyond my control, for a few years now I've had to share living space with a cat. And I'm long on record as hating cats (in fact, unless it's served warm and tender, with a side of either ketchup or mayo, I really can't stand any animal; nothing personal, mind you, and the fault is all mine: if I'm not allergic to them [cats and dogs, mainly], I'm scared to death of animals; chipmunks give me heart attacks), but, I will admit, the cat in question (his name is Boo, go figure) and I have developed a mutual respect, and dare I say it, almost a (non-tactile) relationship over the years.

And so I face a kind of moral dilemma at the moment: the cat has a bad cold and is sneezing rather constantly--do I sympathize or gloat? The amount of sniffles, runny noses, bone-rattling sneezes, itchy skin and eyes (to the point of temporary blindness from not being able to open them) that cats have caused me over the years dwarfs this cat's tiny little eh-choos. So I feel justified in following him around the house and laughing at his sneezes and hectoring things along the lines of "Ha ha, feline. How does it feel now?" But I'm also a Gemini with a bit of compassion. The cat is obviously miserable, as anyone suffering from a cold is, and part of me wants to hold a hankie in front of him and let him blow his little nostrils out. I've even contemplated parting with my last (it's been a long winter) zesty orange Airborne tablet and dissolving it in his water dish (though that would help, what really does the job, and is almost even worth suffering the onset of a cold, is a nice shot glass of NyQuil--gulp, monitor your failing consciousness for a half hour, sleep the sleep of the Righteous for 8 hours, and wake up a new and improved human being). What do I do? Sympathize or aggravate? It's just a cat, after all.

Solution: Tonight I revel. Tomorrow I pity. Fat Tuesday/Ash Wednesday. Sin today, repent tomorrow. Hey, Boo, sneeze a million more times and we'll call it even. Ha ha ha.