Upside down

Rififi's world is now officially turned upside down. We've got cat carriers with kittens in the living room, bowls of water throughout the house, people coming by to set cat-traps, the sudden appearance of chicken baby food on chopsticks. Nothing is as it seems. To her credit, Rififi has so far engaged in minimal growling thus far, being content instead to have the occasional token smidge of baby food or Aquari-yums as a reward for good, non-threatening behavior.

Rififi was always "the baby" until now; although she's four, she's always mistaken for being a much younger cat.

"She is a kitten, yes?" says the vet.

"No, she's FOUR!" I always say, in the same strange proud way that parents brag about their kids' cuteness, as though it's something within their own control.

Rif's not afraid of anything, whether the vaccuum or a golden retriever, but I think she's a little unnerved by the new visitors. These days she hides beneath the Kingsford charcoal on the porch, breathing fast in the stiff heat of the summer.

At night, we hold her, feed her , and call her to sleep at the foot of the bed. She sleeps the same way between us, her purr low, her eyes squeezed into small papercuts.