Well, okay, technically it’s my wife’s cat but I sneak him treats (against doctor’s orders) on occasion because I’m just that kind of guy. No, not the kind that wants bad things to happen to my wife’s cat, but the kind of guy that doesn’t always play by the rules. And he (the cat that is) loves me for it. I’m the first up in the morning and he comes up to me and head butts me in the shin, damn near knocking me over (he’s a Maine Coon – kinda beefy) and he knows what’s in store. A little sliced turkey or roast beef or if I’m making tuna fish sandwiches, an orgasmic hunk of tuna. I can see it in his twinkling eyes. Nirvana time. I’m gonna get treats from the dorky guy that sits for hours at his computer as I watch him, thinking, what a dolt, why doesn’t he just take a nap in the sun?Okay, the cat doesn’t get the whole writing gig. But he knows how to have fun. I’m usually the last to bed (being a writer means some odd hours) and I fear turning off the lights before retiring. Why? Because the darkness is his friend. He loves to hide behind the sofa and attack me as I walk down the hall to the bedroom. I’m half asleep and this furry missile comes out of the dark and hits me full on, staggering me. I curse softly at him (don’t want to wake my wife – the cat is bad enough) but I have to grin too. He’s a trickster. He’s loves to play. He even loves to play fetch like a puppy. Yep, he loves life. And I love him for it.
So there is a bond between the cat and me. I’m not a cat or dog guy per se – but I do like animals. And like I said, I do love this cat. He gets it. He gets that life should be fun. That no matter how many times you attack the dork as he trundles off to bed, it’s fun. Scaring the crap out of the half-asleep guy is fun. I can imagine him curling up at the foot of the bed thinking, I got him good tonight. And I get turkey in morning. Life is good.
Okay, maybe he doesn’t understand why I write instead of nap, but I think he gets me just as I get him. We are simpatico that way. We get life. Life should be fun. That treats are okay in moderation. That sneak attacks are fun – if no harm is done. That life is good. Yeah, at least the cat understands me.
4 comments:
Mark, could your cat come over and have a little chat with my cats? Mine don't seem to get the writing thing at all, though one of them does have down the sneak attack in the dark thing. One of mine gets so mad when I spend hours at the computer that he has scratched the back of my computer chair till it's in shreds. The other sprawls on the desk between the keyboard and the screen and swings her big fluffy tail over the keys as I type. I've even had my mouse hand bitten from time to time.
But, you know, you gotta love an animal that wants you to nap in the sun. After all, they only want the best for you.
Wishing all of us many well-deserved naps in the sun.
Love the post and Sue Ann's comment. Like hers, my cats don't get the writing thing and the back of my office chair looks like hers. I have one cat who wants to sleep in a desk drawer and will get quite vocal if I don't open it for him. He is not a Maine Coon, but about the size of one, and we do not argue with Little John very often.
I notice as I browse different blogs that many of us writers are also animal lovers. Do you think there is some creative correlation there?
Mark, I'd appreciate your cat talking to my dogs, as well, please.
One of my dogs has discovered the power button on my laptop and if I let her near it, she'll come over and give me that "I'll teach you to ignore me," look and swipe at it with her paw to get my attention. Oh, it gets my attention alright... Thank heavens for autosave and recovery.
What a handsome cat! Mark, I want to know his name.
I write about dogs, and I love 'em, but I also love living with cats. Mine were wrestling under the desk as I worked into the wee hours last night, and they literally pulled the plug on my computer. I'm sure that lost page was among my most brilliant ever. Ah, the price we pay for love and amusement!
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