About fifty percent of my work time is spent at my computer in my home office; my wife works nights and sleeps during the days, so guess who I interact with most? The family cat and dog.
Xenia, her imperial majesty, insists on four-star culinary service, comfortable beds, and open doors so she can bed down anywhere in the house she desires—Max, AKA the hound, is an expert at snatching kitty food while no one is looking and terrorizing chipmunks in the woodpile. It can be a bit of a circus.
Every afternoon at about four thirty, a ritual brings together the kitty and the hound in a union-like solidarity. Dinner. Sitting staring at the clock, they silently tell my wife or me that dinner must be promptly served in the main dining room no later than five PM. After which the domestic staff is free to do whatever they want until “tenzies.”
Around ten, Xenia is looking for a bedtime snack, and Max is also in the mood for a little “something.” After which, the domestics are again free to retire for the night.
I guess it’s like John Milton once said, “They also serve, who only stand and wait.”