Yes, that is my Clorox2 that I accidentally left on the counter.

No, please don’t touch it to hand it to me.

You shouldn’t have done that.

Now, where are my wipes?

Thanks a lot, because now I have to carry it funny until the handle dries, and I’m going to have to wipe it better when I get home. Besides, why were you standing so close to me anyway? There are signs for you to keep your distance to respect the privacy of the person being helped, not to mention (although I’m totally mentioning it) the currently-advised physical distancing you should be observing.

HISS! SPIT! HISS! HISS!

That’s how that would have come out in catonese, if it had come out at all. Much better than the feeble, “I wish you hadn’t done that,” and mad scramble for a sanitizing wipe.

I have much respect for the simple directness of a displeased cat.

Carley Rose, Archer, Bebe, even my own kitties who love each other and us, have different, brusque ways of letting others know when to back off. Divya and Olive have CPhDs on the subject. They could Zoom teach a few things to furbies and furless alike.

For now, as I remember my parents telling me and my sibs to keep our hands to ourselves, I have The Georgia Satellites ringing in my ears and some cats with very strong personalities running through my mind.

What they have in common is a wonderfully eloquent way of saying, “Hands off!”

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