my organic barometer

A few hours before the weather broke last week, I knew it was going to happen. How I knew didn't have anything to do with meditation, incantation, speculation or rain dancin'.
It was all about Maxine.

Cats live very structured lives.
"At 8AM, you'll find me over here and at 10AM I'll be over there. At noon, I'll come in looking for my daily ration of tuna and from noon to 4PM I'll be sleeping out under the plant stand on our terracotta tiled porch. But at 4PM I'll be back in the kitchen for dinner. . .
. . .And by the way, if you go to the bodega for beer, I expect you to have a dollop of milk in a bowl for me so we can both enjoy a cocktail."

Now most of that, except for the "gimme food" stuff, is her summer schedule. So like I said at the start, a few hours before our clear blue skies and sticky heat gave way to hours of gray skies and cooling rain, Max had again assumed her place on the one of my living room chairs that she believes
belongs to her.
It's a seat she never takes during the summer and it's been a behavior pattern I've recognized for as long as we've been living here together.

And when January rolls around, a few hours before the even cooler weather kicks in, I'll know it's time to start cursing out my drafty jalousie windows again because "my organic barometer" will be curled up under the covers at the foot of the bed.