Scents and Sensibility; Cents and Sensibility

Kitty O has a great sense for scents. If there are dark grey clouds in the sky he will pause at the door and put his nose in the air to test for rain.If he stays indoors, I know better than to go out without an umbrella. When I return from hiking in the hills, he immediately checks out the new aromas my shoes have brought in, pausing at any errant leaf that is stuck to the sole. And of course, never forget that he, with great delicacy, sniffs his feces and then covers it until there is no offending smell to be found. He has great sensibility that way.
As his human, entrusted with his well-being, I am sensible that I need to take care of him. It requires cents, for sure, given that he requires special food that is, naturally, far more expensive than ordinary fare, given that he is no ordinary cat.
But I am not just talking about taking care of Kitty O. In order to make sure he is Kitty O-kay, I also have to take care of myself; and there is where the real cents come in. Making a living as a writer? Does that make any sense? Does it make any cents? More cents than dollars, that's for sure. But it is my sensibility, my calling, as it were, to write, in the same way that smelling things, to a degree, is Kitty O's thing to do.
And so we both carry on, scents for cents, each living out our sensibility. Kitty O marches around and makes order of his world, one sniff at a time. I do the same with mine, one word at a time.
Here's the link for those of you who might want to read the first Commissioner Oscar D'Costa mystery (The second one is words away from being finished.)
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2...