I’m studying Algebra with an SAT student in the dining Room. Maia is doing her best to interrupt: yeowling in other parts of the house, coming to stand just out of arm’s reach and facing away from us in distaste, thundering around and sharpening her claws on my couch. Finally, she resorts to chewing on the plant that’s about two feet from me.
“Maia LOWE!” I say in shock. I push her to the floor roughly. “What are you doing? That’ll make you sick!”
Not five minutes later, from the hallway, we hear the unmistakable gurgling of a cat becoming ill. My eyelids drift shut, attempting to will this event out of existence.
My student starts to giggle. “It’s okay,” she says. “I have a cat too.”
“Maia LOWE!” I say in shock. I push her to the floor roughly. “What are you doing? That’ll make you sick!”
Not five minutes later, from the hallway, we hear the unmistakable gurgling of a cat becoming ill. My eyelids drift shut, attempting to will this event out of existence.
My student starts to giggle. “It’s okay,” she says. “I have a cat too.”
