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a feline pa(w)use
Apr. 10th, 2006 03:30 pmI have become a cat-tree.
I'm sitting at my desk, innocently typing away, and Boomer comes up and jumps on the chair behind me.
This is not unusual. I continue typing.
He places his paws on my back. Also not unusual. I continue.
He scrabbles up my back, using all four paws but thankfully no claws, until he is perched like a monkey on my back, his chin resting on my shoulder as though to read what I've been typing. I pause, look at him and ask, rather calmly, "what are you doing?"
He was, apparently, on his way to my shoulders, where he draped himself like the world's heaviest orange-fur boa until I, laughing too hard, had to move him to the actual cat-tree next to me.
He then tried to do it a second time, being cat of no brain but much determination.
I get the hint. Time to take a break.
I'm sitting at my desk, innocently typing away, and Boomer comes up and jumps on the chair behind me.
This is not unusual. I continue typing.
He places his paws on my back. Also not unusual. I continue.
He scrabbles up my back, using all four paws but thankfully no claws, until he is perched like a monkey on my back, his chin resting on my shoulder as though to read what I've been typing. I pause, look at him and ask, rather calmly, "what are you doing?"
He was, apparently, on his way to my shoulders, where he draped himself like the world's heaviest orange-fur boa until I, laughing too hard, had to move him to the actual cat-tree next to me.
He then tried to do it a second time, being cat of no brain but much determination.
I get the hint. Time to take a break.
