The Cat Makes Rounds

Container followed me to breakfast, the library, the laundry and the engine control room. Seen written down, the itinerary looks more purposeful than it felt while I was carrying it out. I was moving through an ordinary day aboard. She appeared to be conducting a series of inspections, using my movements as convenient transport between areas that required her attention.

At each stage there was the soft persistence of paws behind me and the occasional sense that I was not progressing at the preferred speed. The ship's familiar warmth and vibration accompanied us throughout. I have become accustomed to both, but following a cat makes me notice them differently, as possible attractions rather than merely the background conditions of living at sea.

Big Kev allowed her into the engine control room for eight minutes. During this carefully limited visit she inspected one console and slept beneath a chair. I thought that an admirably economical use of access. The inspection established her interest in the department. The sleep suggested confidence that everything would continue satisfactorily without further intervention from her, at least for the remaining minutes.

Kev says she likes vibration. I think she likes access. Both explanations may be true, although only one accounts for the air of quiet entitlement with which she accompanies me towards a door. I have no console to inspect and no convincing reason to sleep beneath office furniture, so her visit was arguably more productive than mine. Eight minutes was enough for her to make herself at home. I am still learning.