So often when I’m writing I’m joined by one of two 11-pound lumps of fur and purr, sitting on my lap, shifting, kneading and finally settling in while I lean over him or her to the keyboard.
They’re a sister and brother team who came into my life sometime back, when they were just kittens and in need of safety and shelter. Mimi is my princess, or perhaps pharaohess would be the better term given her sleek appearance. She’s not the best at staying put, in fact, she’s more likely to wander around the apartment, crying and annoying the heck out of me while I write. But when I turn to yap at her, she looks at me and comes running, and I stop before the words come out. She just wants some loving.
Walter, on the other hand, is adept at snuggling in, melting in, really. He’s the scene-stealer and has been from the beginning. Cute, charming and a little shy, Walter, too, just wants to be loved.
On occasion I read aloud what I’ve written and take into consideration their most likely unrelated reactions: burrowing further in, leaping from my lap, a tiny “mew?” I take as a request for clarification. Sometimes Walter will hold a paw out as if to say, “that’s enough, you don’t need to share anymore, I’m here to nap.”
They drive me batty and keep me sane, wake me in the middle of the night just to play and sit in the window waiting for me to come home. If I’m sick or weary they’re there beside me, and if I’m agitated they keep their distance…for awhile.
I need them and they need me, so we’re together for the long haul. I hope it’s a long haul.