Maybe I should adopt my father’s “gloom and doom” perspective on life after all, after Baldo failed to perform his part of my bathroom ritual this morning.

After brushing my teeth and shaving I did my due diligence by gradually closing the bathroom door without securing it shut so that he could push it open with his head just enough to squeeze through and enter while I sat on the toilet.  I enjoy his part of the ritual: his growling, purring, and whining, an insistence that he be petted and groomed by his “human” beguile and distract me even as I attempt to take care of my “business.” (Yes, we are all multitaskers even though I do not bring my mobile phone into the bathroom with me.)

I waited and waited and waited for Baldo to enter while I sat there letting thoughts run through my mind, but he never poked his head through the door.

After successfully leaving my post I opened the door where Baldo had originally settled when I entered the bathroom.  He remained there waiting, looking up at me as I entered the hallway. I bent down on my somewhat gimpy knees to express my disappointment at his refusal to accompany me in my ritualized morning deliberations.

He just looked at me and purred.  I petted the back of his neck just above the “temple” mark where god picked him up with sooty hands and he growled sweetly a couple of times.  That’s all it took for me to forget for at least a moment the “gloom and doom.”