With some trepidation, I passed screwdrivers and accepted screws while the Engineer extracted the hard drive from Sebastian, my faithful computer. We had spent all New Year’s Day backing things up and were ready to put in a new, one-terabyte drive — it’s been sitting in the nook of my bookstand for over a year — and load it with my birthday present, Windows 7.
“Okay, I’m ready for you to unwrap the new drive,” the Engineer said. There was a scrumbling noise behind me, and there, perched on Volume Two of Myofascial Pain and Dysfunction, was Mr. Ferguson, clawing at the Mylar sleeve that enclosed the component. I caught it before it could plunge to the floor.
He’s never paid any real attention to it before.
It is a little known fact that all cats are licensed computer technicians.
The new operating system works a treat. I tried to get Fergie to help with loading software, but he played dumb.