Way back in 1992 I wrote a piece about the animals that lived with us. In those days we had dogs. Some were getting very old and none were very frisky. It is said that dogs take on the personality of their owners and that may be. We aren’t very frisky either. Since then the dogs have all disappeared to where old doggies go. Some moved away when our daughter and her family moved to a new home. The dogs, after all, were really hers.

The dogs were replaced by feline critters. Again, they were not ours but they seemed to prefer living with us. Dogs are your friends. They pamper you and return you affection. Cats are very different animals. It has been said that to a cat you are staff, expected to jump to and meet their every need. They allow you to be near them occasionally but on their terms.

Dogs can be trained to some obedience … well, some can, Boaz, who also lives at our house, may be the exception. Cats, however, know a lot. They are smart but they are the most frustrating animals I have ever dealt with. They demand attention and then pointedly ignore you when you try to meet their demand.

A dog will lie forever at your feet. He will cause you no problem and never gets in your way. A cat, on the other hand, has got to be in the middle of whatever you are doing. You want to read a good book; recline comfortably in your recliner; write a letter, etc. … you can do all of these things with a cat in your lap, on your book, or standing in the middle of the keyboard. They don’t mind at all.

Our cats are Cry Baby, the old man of the bunch, is 12+ years. He got his name because of the plaintive sounds he made as a new kitten; it sounded like a baby crying. All black, with yellow eyes he would have scared my father to death. Dad would drive around the block if a black cat crossed his path. Then there is Miss Patsy Kline. Patsy may be as old as Cry baby. She has been around for a long time. She was, until recently, totally anti-social. “Do not touch me… infidel,” she says with a smirk on her face. Last but certainly not least there is Princess Jasmine. She is a grown cat but we still think of her as a kitten. She is the youngster of the group and rules her domain with an iron fist.

Now what does all this have to do with St. Patrick’s Day? That was to be the subject this week. Friday is the time for the wearing of the green. It is the time of the Celtic Spirit that seems to be in all of us. As I sat down to write, Princess Jasmine jumped in my lap, rolled over and said, “I am far more interesting; write about me.” So, who am I to argue with a Princess? Happy St Patty’s Day, Faith and I hope you enjoy it.