Giddy up a oom papa oom papa meow meow!

KEYBORED: Best example of pure (or should that be purr) 
research I've ever seen

I sometimes get asked about Iris the Cat. 

Short answer? She's fine.

Professor Iris Cat's turning 16 any day now. Iris came to us on my son Michel's 16th birthday in 2008. Because Iris is a pound kitty, we don't know her exact age. 

She's still healthy, pleased with herself, and active. Iris once in a while lets fling  a random loud, omnidirectional -- how shall I put this? -- string of potty mouth invective, but who, I ask you -- at least among those living in my house -- doesn't?

Mostly, life is grand.  Just yesterday Iris sat on the bottom step of our front porch and watched a parade of tykes from a local daycare centre march past our house on the way to the park at the end of the block.  

This, incidentally, is the most adorable parade you're ever going to witness. Pride, Caribana, Santa Claus, they got nothing on the daycare kids. About 20 of them, between one and a half and three and carefully watched over by a half dozen daycare workers, march hand in hand. No two kids have the same walking style; and they all talk all the time. Loudly. Sounds like a bunch of birds and chipmunks or something. What two-and-a-half-year olds have to discuss is beyond me. It's not like they've watched a lot of Netflix or read many James Patterson thrillers. 

But they all--daycare staff included--smile when they see Iris. 

Iris smiles back.

I admit she's getting on and not as quick to jump up on tables as she used to, but are you?

IRIS AS COPY CAT: Copy cat.That's a 
journalism joke. Reporters call stories and
 headlines copy. I didn't say it was a good
journalism joke.

Whenever Iris seems to slow down or have uncertain senior cat moments, Helena and I start discussing, in euphemisms but within earshot of Iris, how our grandparents dealt with aging house pets. That livens her right up. Iris I mean. Not Helena.

Sometimes after Iris enters a room she looks around and wonders why she came in, but again, who doesn't?

She's still pretty and in fact she's aged a heck of lot better than lots of other old white cats.  

Iris also greets me, same as she has for years, every morning, and--bonus points!--she has recently inspired her own earworm, courtesy of the Oak Ridge Boys' biggest hit.

Try this at home.

Sing the opening few lines but where Duane Allen sings "Elvira," you stick in "Old Iris." Do it more than twice and you'll think it's our Iris who's got "eyes that look like heaven."

And that's what goes through my head every single freaking morning of the week. "Old Iris."

Hi Ho Silver Away!