We needed some work done on the house that was well beyond my meager handyman skills, so we looked elsewhere for help.  As a result, a salesman came over to give us an estimate for the job.

   When the doorbell rang, the cats scattered and hid, which meant that Pat and I were left to face alone what turned into an overly-aggressive sales pitch.  Curiosity, and perhaps the need for an evening snack, eventually brought Lizzie and Caitie-Belle downstairs into the kitchen where we all sat.  The salesman dutifully commented on their attractiveness, but it was about the only thing he said that night that we believed to be completely true.

   The man wrapped up his sales pitch, received one last "no" from us, and packed his samples case to go.  As we showed him the door, we passed Nicky sitting halfway up the stairs.  Our visitor made a final effort to win over someone in our house by telling Nicky how cute he is, but our Gatito Perfecto trusted him less than we did, and narrowed his eyes and hissed.  (And the truth is, after an hour with this salesman, Pat and I felt like doing the same thing.)  So we have a little cat who not only is handsome, but who also is handy at dealing with pushy salesmen.  Isn't it unfair how some are blessed with so much?