YESTERDAY UPON THE STAIR

I’m not sure why we spent so much time deciding what to name our new kitten a year ago. We settled on Nina, in the end, but she willfully ignores it. We know she’s not deaf like our previous cat Ruby. She can hear the front gate click from anywhere in the house. We know by her reaction there’s another wine delivery on the front veranda even before the delivery man has put it there.

But you can stand in front of her saying ‘Nina! Nina! Nina!’ until you run out of exclamation marks and she just walks past you like in the final scene of The Third Man.

She’s still registered at the vet as Nina but around the house she’s now called Miss Fluffy. Which she also ignores. Which I can understand. It’s a ridiculous name.

She’s kind of annoying but is at least consistent. She similarly ignores the two expensive cat baskets we bought her and still sleeps in Robinson’s now flattened sunhat on the floor.

It’s almost as if she’s a cat.

That old conundrum: If we call our cat by her name and she ignores us, did we make a sound?

Or.

In contemporary fashion: If we walk to the fish market and I forget to wear my Fitbit, did we actually go anywhere? Do I still have a heart rate?

I feel like I’ve disappeared somewhere in my own life.

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