The Art of Purring (The Dalai Lama's Cat 2)

Something was up, dear reader. Something that began with V but didn’t end there. Not if my feline intuition was anything to go by.

It was at the end-of-the-day hot-chocolate session that my instincts were confirmed. As it happened, Lobsang was also in the bookstore that evening. Serena asked him to join them, an invitation he accepted. Watching Lobsang and Serena sit down on a sofa side by side, Sam opened the door leading up to his apartment. There was a thundering on the staircase as he ascended. Muffled voices could be heard from above, then the sound of his footsteps descending, followed by those of someone else.

I stared at Bronnie, fascinated. It was the first time I’d seen her with her hair straight and shiny and her face transformed by makeup. She was dressed in figure-hugging jeans and a pretty top.

“This is Bronnie,” Sam said, introducing her to Lobsang. No introduction to Serena was needed as they had already met. “My girlfriend,” he added.

Bronnie gazed at him with an adoring expression.

Sam beamed.

Lobsang folded his palms together at his heart and bowed.

Serena chuckled. “I’m very happy for both of you!”

After they all sat down, Kusali enacted the end-of-the-day ritual of hot chocolate, dog biscuits, and my saucer of milk.

Lobsang looked from Bronnie to Sam with a serene smile. “So where did you two meet?”

“I needed volunteers for our computer training program,” replied Bronnie. “We’re trying to get some of the kids here job-ready, and Sam stepped up to the plate.”

Sam grinned. “That’s one way of putting it. She wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

“You can stop any time you like,” she teased. Then, looking over at Serena and Lobsang, she said, “He’s not going to. He’s an amazing teacher, and the kids just love him.”

Sam looked down at the floor.

“They even have a name for him.”

“Stop!” Sam said.

“The second, or was it the third, evening he was there—”

“Bronnie!”

“—they decided he should be called Super-Geek. With the greatest affection, of course.”

Serena laughed. “Of course.”

Bronnie was relentless. “He has such a great way of getting things across. You can see the lightbulbs going on just like that,” she said, snapping her fingers.

“I’m only following online course notes,” Sam protested. He felt the need to temper her enthusiasm, although as he leaned back in the sofa he seemed to be enjoying the attention.

“More important than the technical stuff,” continued Bronnie, reaching over to take his hand, “you give them confidence. The feeling that whatever they don’t know, they can easily master. That’s priceless.”

“Then you have discovered a real vocation,” observed Lobsang.

Sam nodded. “I have. I mean, I love books, but I find I enjoy teaching, too. It’s like a whole new dimension has opened up, thanks to Bronnie.”

“You mean, thanks to the Formula,” she said wryly.

“Formula?” asked Serena.

“Sam says he only started because I was so pushy,” Bronnie said. “But then he admitted that voluntary activity was part of some formula for happiness.”

“This is most interesting,” Lobsang said. “Please tell us about it, Sam.”

Sam began explaining about set points, conditions, and voluntary variables. I finished my milk, washed my face, and hopped onto Serena’s lap, kneading it tentatively a few times before settling down.