介绍:
One night after that, I was awakened from a sound sleep when I heard piano notes tinkling. Trembling, I sneaked down the stairs, flashlight in hand.
My flashlight panned the room as I clutched the banister and shook in my slippers. There was something on the piano. It was moving. My flashlight beam fell upon it. Boo was walking on the piano keys.
“Really, Boo? At two o’clock in the morning?”
It became our routine. Every time I played the piano, Boo leapt up on the bench. Obviously, he loved the piano more than me. I went on with my life.
When another friend came over with his guitar, Boo rubbed against his ankles as he strummed the chords.
“Strange. Your cat isn’t like other cats. He’s so friendly,” said my friend, who was a dog person.
“He likes the way you play.”
A few days later, I was sitting on the couch singing my favorite song. As I sang, a dark, plump blur dashed across the room and dived into my lap. It was Boo. He kneaded my lap and kissed my face as I sang.
Wow, I thought. Boo loves the way I sing.
And then, I had a horrible thought. What f he hates the way I sing, and he’s trying to shut me up? I banished the thought immediately.
Boo did not act like a cat who hated my singing. He was purring, happily rubbing his whiskers against my chin in bliss. He kneaded my lap. And right in the middle of the song, he snuggled in my lap, purring like a kitten, and drifted off to sleep.
It happened again and again. Every time I sang that song, if Boo was in earshot, he would stop everything he was doing and come running. I never saw anything like it. I never knew a plump cat could move so fast and defy the laws of gravity while soaring in the air to reach my lap. It was now obvious that he truly loved all music, not just the piano.
Yet when I came home from work, he was nowhere to be found when I called out his name. “Boo, where are you?” My voice echoed through the house.
This is ridiculous, I thought. He only comes running when he hears the sound of a can opening. Or... when he hears music.
I decided to put him to the test. I launched into his favorite song. There was a loud clatter from upstairs, and then thumping as his heavy body dashed down the stairs. He skidded into the room in front of me.
“Meow?” he said.
I was delighted.
I kept singing. He purred some more.
I don’t bother to call Boo anymore. If I want Boo to come to me, I launch into his favorite song, and he will move heaven and earth to find me.
Sometimes, when he is in the middle of joyous rapture, purring to the sound of a piano, guitar, or singing, I wonder if he’s really a frustrated musician trapped in a cat’s body. No, that couldn’t be possible, could it?
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