Shaw, O Shaw…Wherefore Art Thou, Shaw?
“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty…!” I cooed, stooping down onto my haunches, hands outstretched in my best come-hither gesture (although I swear, there was nothing sexual about it. I’m not that kind of animal lover). “Where did you come from, buddy?”
The tom looked at me askew as it sauntered parallel to my position, apparently mulling over whether or not I was as trustworthy as I looked. I must have made a good first impression however, or the cat was simply an especially wise judge of character, because after only a brief moment it padded over and sniffed my fingers as though saying, “yeah, I guess you’re cool. Now what can you do for me…?”