So, for reasons too complicated to get into, I’ve been staying at the house of some friends for a few weeks. They have two dogs who love to be social, and two cats. One of the cats loves to eat and sleep, and that’s pretty much it. The other one is much older (16), and just wants to be left alone- she’s a shy kitty.
Night before last night I was typing away at the computer near my bed, and shykitty comes into the room and looks around. I was surprised, but went back to my typing.
Suddenly, shykitty comes over and begins pawing at my leg. I reach down and give her a skritch behind the ears, and she seems pretty content.
I finish what I’m doing and head for bed. Shykitty follows! She jumps up on the bed, climbs on top of me and goes to sleep! It was amazingly cute and heartwarming… And last night she did it again! Kitty on top of me! Squeee!
Some friends of ours have an Evil Cat. I can tell it’s evil-- all you have to do is look into its soulless eyes and you know it’s planning a campaign of terror. Damn thing snuck up and bit me once.
It usually avoids us when we go over to their house, but we stayed with them for a weekend one time. Evil Cat would come into the room, fix us with its burning stare and then retreat to plot our demise.
On the second night of our stay, I was rudely ripped from sleep by my husband’s bloodcurdling scream, and the outraged yowl of Evil Cat. It seems she had put her plan into motion and had crept into our room to lay down across my husband’s neck, apparently in the hopes that he would be strangled and simultaneously asphixiated by her copious masses of fur. Hubby, unused to having a fur turtleneck materialize in the middle of the night had awoken in a panic, seized her by the scruff and flung her across the room. Evil Cat hissed at us and darted to the hallway.
Our friends were awakened by the racket and came to see what was amiss. Evil cat, the instant she spotted them, began to limp dramatically. The woman freaked, believing the cat to be injured much to Evil Cat’s delight. While she was placing an emergency call to the vet, Evil Cat forgot which foot it was supposed to be limping on, and switched. The husband had a bright idea-- he went and got the can opener. The cat was healed faster than if she’d attended a revival meeting, dancing around and yowling happily at the thought of a can of food.
After her attempt to frame us failed, Evil Cat thereafter avoided our presence. All I’ve seen of her over the last few years is a flash here and there of her piercing, wicked eyes.
For years I was terrified of cats because of the evil puss that belonged to my snotty Aunt Vivian. (Of course anyone who had to live with Aunt Vivian was warped by experience, so why not the cat?) It was a pretty thing–white fur, bright blue eyes–but was only seen if one got too close to a large porcelain vase kept in the breezeway. The cat sulked in the vase and would hiss demonically if some hapless schmoe walked too close.
No lie…I don’t think this evil cat ever ventured further than 6" from a baseboard. It would slink into the under furniture, behind curtains, etc. until it could edge under a couch where a guest was sitting. Then it would suddenly slash its claws across your ankles. Aunt Vivian was a real pain (she’s still alive, so I guess now she’s an extremely senile pain) of the kind who kept fussy white brocade furniture, plastic covers on the lampshades and didn’t approve of people even crossing their legs. Told ya she was a snot.
It was so much fun visiting her. Guests would either stand or sit with their legs extended in the air, bleeding gently through their socks after the cat clawed them. She was completely oblivious. “Oh dear, was that puss again? She’s so playful.”
As a child I couldn’t figure out why in the hell anybody would ever want a cat, having only that one to judge by.
The first time I ever stayed with a friend whose cat companionably jumped on my lap I sat frozen, waiting for the bloodshed to start. Of course, catlike, the critter perversely adored me, probably because I was already cowed into suitable submission. I fell slam in love with that cat when it decided to sleep with me, purring like a teakettle and curled in a warm, silky curve right on top of my head.
Unfortunately it was also when I discovered this slight allergy problem but it was worth it to wake up with eyes swollen to slits anyway.
Yup, you’ve been chosen, Matey. My cat must sleep on me for a while every night before getting kicked out for the night (and there is no question of her sleeping on my husband - he is absolutely inferior sleeping-on material.)
An update. I now have a puppy on my bed. Okay, he’s 80 pounds, but he still thinks he’s a puppy. He’s lookin’ at me like, “You’re gonna give me pettin’s, right?”
sigh I must succumb to the cuteness! Good night all!
