More on Writing With Cats

My other cat, Squeak, decided to offer her kind assistance to me tonight. I was working on my laptop in the living room as I watched the episodes of LOST and DEAD LIKE ME I'd recorded.

Quick note: DEAD LIKE ME is wonderful! I never saw this one when it was on, but it's a sharp, darkly hilarious look at the unlife of a young woman who becomes a Grim Reaper after she is killed by a falling piece of space junk (a toilet seat from a Russian space station).

Anyway, I was lying on my stomach, typing away as I watched the shows (it's sad, but that's the only way I watch TV anymore) when Squeak came to see me. She is an affectionate kitty, but is a little like the princess whose sleep was disturbed by a single pea. She will sit in your lap and purr contentedly but a sudden noise, a shift in position, or even the tensing of muscles to indicate I'm thinking of shifting position is enough to end lap-time. She will leap away, then, to demonstrate that she wasn't really startled she will casually stroll away.

Squeak has an impressive stroll. She is a fluffy black cat and her hindquarters resemble nothing so much as an old-fashioned set of women's ruffled bloomers. When she walks away you know that you have been well and justly snubbed.

Anyway (tonight seems to be tangent night) as I lay there, I felt Squeak climb up on the back of my thighs. I lay very still while she spent a considerable period of time pacing around to judge the perfect spot to settle. I thought she was going to curl up in the small of my back, as she has sometimes before, but she chose the higher ground slightly to the south.

I lay still and stopped typing for the next half-hour, enjoying the weightless warmth of her tiny body. I could feel her purr but never heard it. That is a peculiarity of hers, when she purrs it is so quietly that you can only feel it. It's as if she wants the purr to be for you and you alone. Moments of closeness like that are rare for her, and I treasure them when they come.