These days Sekhmet spends a lot of time living in the basement, to keep her separated from Chico, my mother-in-law's cat. This sounds a lot more onerous than it is, because the basement is where I and the Goober are sleeping, the main TV, all my knitting, and most of the Goober's toys. So Sekhmet still gets us twelve to eighteen hours a day, which is better than a cat whose humans work, when you think about it.
Somehow, even though I've explained the above to Sekhmet more than once, she still gets separation anxiety.
I am kitty velcro. I'm the prickly half. She's the fuzzy half. Szt. Stuck together. As I type this, she is sitting on the arm of the chair I'm sitting in, doing her trademark Lap Ooze manouver. At the moment, it is butt on arm of chair, front paws on my leg. I can tell from the shifting of her paws that in another minute or two, one of her front paws will come up over my arm to the center of my lap. It'll rest there for a bit, just like an accident. Then the next front paw will somehow - purely by accident, you know - wind up over my arm and into my lap. Then, her butt will ooze off the arm of the chair and onto my arm. Without appearing to move, she will somehow slide over until she is curled up in a ball between my arms while I try to type, leaving about two inches of each knee to support my laptop.
She just dripped nose condensation on my hand.
And her butt just plopped onto my arm, while her purring rattles my computer.
Fucker. (Yes, I'll give her a pat from all of you.)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
9 comments:
Awww... let the lap-ooze begin...
(spamword: dulatin-- unflavored gelatin
Oh, oh, lucky you...well-tended by your cat....and lucky Sekhmet! (Perhaps she thinks she's reassuring you?)
sounds like the first guy I went to a movie with who was trying to cop a feel.
At least she's not a St Bernard.
I love when they do that. They start oozing and kind of look up at you to see if you're paying attention. Earl Gray does that. Do give him a squeeze from me!
I love my cat, he's cute and adorable and everything. He'll follow me around, paw for attention, sleep on the head rest of my recliner while I'm sitting there and bat at my hair. But hardly ever sleeps in my lap. Makes me a little jealous.
Love it. The description of the hesitation before moving right in is dead-on!
My dd has a cat much like yours. He's Siamese. He's spoiled. She's away at college. Guess who's lap he oozes into these days?
My dog tries to do that. Poor guy. He's never figured out that he's not 2 months old and 10 pounds any more. (8 years and 106 is more like it!) Every time I stop moving, he tries to curl up on my feet. All that fits any more are his front paws and his big head.
Post a Comment