Sunday, November 19, 2006
Usually being the first one up in the morning, I stumble into the bathroom with the cat fast upon my heels, having apparently missed the company of humans for all of five or six hours. And there we are, the cat rubbing up against my legs, purring, meowing, telling me her food bowl is empty and I'm the only one in the world who cares about her and WHY HAVEN'T YOU FILLED IT YET???
Meanwhile, I'm telling her, "Look, I don't bother you when you're in the litter box, so leave me alone." To date, she has never understood this.
Many times when my wife comes around a corner of our house, the cat will bounce on her feet for a moment, then move away. I am constantly hearing her tell the cat, "It's me. It's always me. It's always going to be me."
Lately though, I confess the cat seems to be mellowing out a bit. She's over three years old, now, and she'll actually let me lie down on the bed - disturbing her nap, mind you - without jumping off and running away. We'll actually even nap together. I'll always wonder if she thinks my snoring is just my way of purring.
The other day I was staying home with my daughter, who was ill and didn't go to school, and while I was at the computer, she actually jumped up to my lap and curled up in the crook of my elbow for about 45 minutes, until I had to put her down and see if the joint would still work. Getting old sucks.