Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Lucy Loves Laptops


Lucy, on the job.
I really, really, really do not want to be pegged as a cat lady, so I should just keep my trap shut about having one. Yep, I'm writing this post against my better judgement, in my office with the door closed, because I had to get away from my cat. She's new, and she's just a kitten, so I'm trying to cut her a break, but I'm not used to her needing to stick her little pink nose into everything I'm doing. (That cute little pink nose. Ah, it's killin' me.)

As a writer, I much prefer my desk and keyboard to be a cat-free zone. My previous felines seemed to understand that; in fact, the last one pretty much flipped me off if I ever tried to be remotely familiar with her. This one is a different story. She spent the first three weeks in her new home hiding behind the TV in the basement, and when she finally realized I wasn't going to kill her, she came out. And now she owns the place, and me.

She follows me around the house, practically putting her paws right under my heels. (Aw, those adorable tiny bootie paws. With cotton candy pads! What a great contrast to her tux markings! She's so color-coordinated!) She expresses her needs, displeasure and delight vociferously (i.e., she meows and meows and meows, and then she meows some more just in case I didn't hear her the first few times). My last kitty wasn't a talkerin fact, she never uttered a soundbut I'm getting very familiar with this one's tonsils, because that Friskies depository is always open. (Yes! Cats have tonsils! I looked it up!) And when I return after a few hours away from the old homestead, she welcomes me like she thought I might have left her permanently, which I have to admit is pretty nice to come home to. 

Her office routine of late is getting in the way of my creative expression and the outpouring of genius that always emerges when I sit at my desk. (Well, almost always.) (Okay, then, most days.) She lolls around on my to-do list, and knocks my pens to the floor, and languidly stretches her head (it’s such a perfect little noggin!) over to see what I’m doing, and on occasion, edits my work by quick-stepping over the keyboard when I’ve walked away, so that I must make a beeline for the feline and scoop her up before she writes her favorite word: "pojhfresxz." Can’t you hear the frustration that this diminutive minx, with the softest coat and the sweetest little belly and the constant purring, is changing the way I work?

Yeah, she’s getting to me. I guess I don’t mind being a cat lady. Just as long as you all know I’m a writer and a cat lady. Emphasis on the writer.

© 2016 A Bit of Brie/Anitabrie