Fell asleep on the sofa and woke up with two cats atop of me — one at my feet, the other listening to my heartbeat, apparently.
Caturday Nap
Caturday Naptime
Caturday Night’s Alright for Snugglin’
Alright, alright…..
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“Caturday Night? I’m all dressed up and ready to go!”
Drive Me Batty and Keep Me Sane
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.
comfort
In the middle of the night, I wake up and they’re sneaking in to snuggle up next to me. They know if I’m awake I’m likely to move them, because their warm bodies overheat me and I don’t like being pinned down by dead weight. But if I’m asleep, I don’t know any better.
So I smile and just hope I’ll go right back to sleep, because I don’t want to turn away their love.
Walter
Mimi
bottom line: my life is better with cats
If you know me at all, you know this post was inevitable. Yes, I’m one of those – a cat lover.
I’m not going to say “cat lady,” because that sounds like I have 17 cats in my house on the outskirts of town where I play Bobby Darin records, eat bon-bons and watch game shows. Alone.
Right now that sweet little guy on the left, Walter, is trying to get settled in my lap as I sit at my desk and type this post. He’s my snuggler, the first lap cat I’ve ever had.
They soothe me. When I’m stressed, lonely or despairing, they’re there to protect me from all evil.
Like so many cat lovers, I want to show my appreciation for them. In my home, I have to keep myself from over-decorating my apartment in cat-themed art. It’s really startling to one day look around and lose count of how many inanimate cats there are in your home.
I decided it was time to move away from it, and at the same time look for something I hadn’t tried at all before, Modern Art.
I thought, check out Andy Warhol. Guess what I found out? Mr. Warhol did a whole series of cat pictures. I now have a print of one in my bedroom. It’s called “So Meow” and the colors are perfect. I’m not sure if I won or lost with that one. Let’s face it, wherever I go, the cats are going to pull me in,
Almost twenty years ago I picked up the cat of my heart, Paco. I love every cat who’s ever been a part of my life, but Paco was special. We were both lonely souls at the time who desperately needed each other. I saved him, and he saved me. It was a bond I don’t expect to have again.
When I got him, he was the squirreliest looking thing ever — great big ears, great big paws, a great big tail and scrawny everything else. Kind of like an awkward teenager, although at first I simply thought I’d inherited a homely cat.
“Mom,” I said in a panic when I called her. “He’s so funny looking and he ignores me!”
“I’m sure he’s not that funny looking,” she replied, “and he just needs to get used to his new home.”
Right on the second part, wrong on the first. But eventually he grew into the big beautiful cat he remained until he died at the age of 16.
Paco would sit at the door and wait for me to come home at night. I moved in with my mom for a short time, and she said he got in place about 30 minutes before I was expected home. I made sure I was never late.
One weekend I visited my brother out of town. I left at the usual time in the morning with a bag Paco didn’t recognize. My mom told me (after I got home) that he waited for me until 10:30 that night, until she finally picked him up and brought him into the living room to sit next to her. He pretty much stayed there until I came home. Then he was really mad at me, and hissed for an hour. Then he wouldn’t leave my side.
I’m crying a little as I write that story. I miss him, but I love my current babies, Walter & Mimi. I hope I always have a cat in my life. These are pictures of some of those who have made my life better just by waking (me) up in the morning.
And I confess, I do listen to Bobby Darin from time to time. So do Walter & Mimi. We’re romantics. But I’m still a cat lover, not a cat lady.
My World With Words 
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