Feline Envy

I am writing this guiltily, aware that my cat lies, splayed out on the carpet next to me, before Our Lady of Perpetual Heat, where she has been since our latest snowfall.

I pet her, and she burns my hand.

Happily, she isn't human and can't read what I'm typing.

I am suffering from a peculiar obsession: I want another person's cat.

"Goldie, on extended snow/ice watch. Verdict: 'Nope, nothing yet.'"

"Goldie checks out the previous night's snowfall from underneath the shelter of the Buick. She says the white stuff looks nice, but she doesn't go for the cold/wet aspect, so she's back in by the fireplace."

"Goldie decides that monitoring the snow from this vantage point is preferable to the up-close and personal variety."

"Hmm. All the white stuff from yesterday is melting. Whatever that means."

Never have I felt this way, but never have I had such clever insight into another person's animal companion. Facebook has introduced me to the object of my obsession.

Goldie lives in west Alabama, a long way from here, with people I have never actually met. Because of multiple shared "face friendships," however, her human father and I have friended each other, resulting in my sinful desire.

When Goldie doesn't appear on my wall, I am disappointed. If she doesn't appear for several days running, I grow increasingly anxious. I access my page many times a day, looking for her. Once, I even asked about her and was pleased my question prompted a post.

Now all my other Facebook friends -- many of them "cat people" -- admire and comment on Goldie because I share her owner's posts with them. This is life in the 2000s: strangers flung far apart pine for their daily feline fix.

Curious, isn't it, and comforting? In cyberspace, Goldie comforts one friend facing cancer surgery, another who has lost her job, another whose favorite cat has just died, another who loves cats but can't them because a child is allergic, and . . . ?

Thanks, Dale, for sharing your feline companion with us all. I shall try to control my envy, but beware: I have Googled your address.