Ode to a Keyboard

I fell in love with the split, raised keyboard many years ago when I worked for a computer company and could try out new devices.

The husband complained about the funky keyboard and refused to use it.

So I kept it.

The letters -- or just the E, D, K, M, J, A, I, and O -- wore off -- and guests refused to use it.

I kept using it and kept thinking someday I should paint letters on the worn keys.

"You could replace it," the husband said.

"It works great," I said. And it did, especially with the abuse it got from the cat paws over the years.

Today, though, it didn't work great. The keyboard offered spaces in the most unusual places. Then, it insisted on auto-completing -- everything or "evergreen."

But it's most annoying habit was the backspace. When I hit that, it offered "6" over and over again.

Was it possessed?

I pondered that as I did chores.

Maybe, just maybe, my computer had a virus.

I plugged in the spouse's keyboard. It did fine.

And so I bought an ordinary, black, straight keyboard this evening.

It looks like everyone else's with one exception.

Dewey Kitty (whom, a close friend has told me, is a little TOO large to be a kitty) has found it a nice spot for a nap.