Gypsy is on my lap again. She ignored me while I was sitting on the couch, vaguely absorbing a KnitGirllls episode. But the minute I came back into the office to work for a couple of hours, she had to be next to me, near me, on top of me.
This can be rather challenging, I frequently need part of my desktop to put documents out. And a gray cat directly in front of my second monitor defeats the purpose. Or she'll put the smackdown on my hand while I'm trying to use the mouse.
Up and down she hops, wandering around behind the laptop, flopping over on her side. Often she ends upon my lap when I get frustrated. Currently, she's trying to shove me away from the desk--kicking her back foot against the desk --my chair is on wheels. She's strong for eight pounds of fur, all of which she is shedding.
I do get irritated with her. It's hard not to when she's nearly knocking over my drink, spilling my papers on the floor again, smacking her tail against the mouse and moving the cursor while I'm writing.
But I remember that here is a small creature that wants very little from me: crispies, regular applications of gooshy food, a clean litter box, some houseplants to eat, a pillow to steal.
And my lap and attention.
I'm a moving target most days. Yesterday I was flying between meetings, between buildings, dreading a potential interruption as I tried to keep juggling the ball in the air. Today was a bit less frantic, but only slightly. It's 11 p.m. and I'm cat tired but I need to work for another hour or so...
With my sidekick who doesn't ask much. Pettings, cuddles. room to stretch out (that means my left arm is immobile, I'm at a weird angle that my massage therapist won't approve of, and I just lost feeling in one foot).
She might wander off for a snack or a drink, but most often she's just here, patiently waiting while I work, happy to have me nearby.
It's an amazing comfort. And I suppose for that I can deal with the lost of blood flow and occasionally odd sentence.
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