did i ever get to write about the time i looked out the back door at the nunnery to find buster making crop circles in the dirt? it was the strangest thing – i’m not so familiar with cats, but people who are agree it’s disturbing. there he was, making a nice neat diagram of an iris, standing in the middle, pivoting around one front paw while the other scraped dirt from as far out as he could reach, towards himself into a pile as circular as the outside perimiter. by the time i saw it he was nearly finished, assessing where the previous scrapings weren’t close enough together and adding lines with precision.
with my record on losing travel photos and data, i’ve mostly sworn off trying to record images for documentary purposes, but i do wish i had a camera on me that day. i never got on well with buster, as i fell into the role of trying to train him to our rules when noone else cared quite enough to keep him off the table when he was being cute, but after that i would’ve felt patronising to try to interact with him as a pet.