So. I'm loafing (again) in my chair. In front of the TV. My iPod in hand.
Been tweeting. Reading blogs. Replying to blogs. Trying to think of something remarkable to write.
Blank.
I could whine about the trials and tribulations of restaurant operation. But most of the tribulations are operator error.
I could complain about never-ending housework. But that is old news.
I think I'll write about the cat on my lap. Feel free to roll your eyes and move on. I understand.
So.
The cat on my lap is the newest of my three. When we moved into Mom's a year ago I had two.
This one was hanging around the back door, living under the steps and in the old cistern. Yes there is one of those here.
Anyway. After a short time I was able to coax her inside for short visits. When winter rolled in she was more than happy to become a house cat. And she was named. Sister Wee-un. I just call her Wee, six pounds of black fur and attitude.
She has made it clear to cat #1 that she intends to be TopCat. ASAP. Cat #1 is not yet ready to retire. Makes for interesting interactions. Cat #2 is enamored of her. He is wrapped, totally around her...paw.
Every time I sit today, she has found my lap. Quietly creeping in. Then practicing acupuncture on the tops of my legs. Until she has made them comfortable for herself.
And, I'm comforted my her warmth. Her trust. Cat people know, there is nothing quite like the company of a cat when you're tired, lonely, sad. They don't gaze at you the way a dog does, they just...be.
Once in a while, she'll reach out a snaky paw and tap my face, blink and mew. Then curl up tightly and purr her contentment with her little world.
And that little world? Includes me.
Happy sighs.
ReplyDeleteI love cats.
Mark and I have had a number of cats over the course of our marriage, and without exception? They turned on us. I blame Mark.
He always treated the cats as though they were dogs, and the cats?
Grew tired of that. And him. And then, by extension?
They grew tired of me.
And now Kallan (my younger daughter) is allergic to cats.
So we have dogs instead.
Dogs are not the same.
At all.
Sigh.
Thanks for visiting.
ReplyDeleteAnd no cats are not dogs. I like dogs, mostly.
But cats are my friends.
One of my cats is a former feral from the no-kill shelter. She's been with me over a year and a half now, and I'm still working on gaining her trust. Anytime I'm on my feet she flees like I'm Frankenstein's monster. But when I sit down to watch tv, she can't stop herself from coming up for some snuggling and a belly rub.
ReplyDeletejkatj
Hey, thanks for stopping by! Yes I have a cat in my lap now. Not Wee, but Cat, mistress of All She Surveys.
ReplyDeleteIt took her 5 years to become a lap cat. Hang in there.