A Cat Post.

“If we are very lucky, we will have spent some of our life being owned by a cat.”

I have never understood people telling me they prefer dogs because cats are unsociable & unloving.  I have never found that to be the case.  Rather the opposite in fact.

Just at present we are going through some particularly hot, sticky days. The humidity is through the roof & we are all sweltering under the fan. Both cats are generally to be found in the coolest spot available, spread~eagled on their backs, feet in the air aiming for as much cool air as possible over as much of their considerable girths as they can get! There is nothing in the least unusual about this.  However my cats are used to a a lot  of attention ~ & I do mean a lot! It's not just that we talk to them.  They get chucked under the chin as we pass by, stroked & rubbed, commented on, tickled, played with & generally called upon to keep us company ~ though that last is simply because if we disappear from sight they start calling for us! Yet they are not lap cats.  They want to be near us, with us, around us but not necessarily on us. The MOTH complains whenever I go away because the cats expect him to replace my allotment of love & cuddles as well as his share.

That is how we roll ~ except when it is hot & humid.  When it is hot & humid no~one wants to touch the cats because cat hair sticks to everything like glue. It is far too hot for cuddles ~ & our cats, as you can see, are semi~long haired cats who generate plenty of heat of their own.

We were out yesterday, leaving the cats in charge of the house. We got home rather more hot & bothered than when we left but dutifully said hello to both cats, who were anxious to reconnect with their humans after such a long absence!  I took my glass of ice cold water & went to sit in the breeze on the verandah.

 Within moments Kirby had lept into my lap for head butts, chin rubs, kitty kisses & big smooches. *sigh* Cat hair stuck to my damp face & the rim of my glass, my glasses, my hands & my damp T~shirt. Nothing quite like breathing in lungfuls of cat hair.  I rubbed my thumb along his jawline in the way he loves thinking he would hop down soon enough but no.  He had missed me & having  rubbed his scent glands all over me to ensure I  smelt just right he curled up in a ball in my lap.

Ummm...it was like cuddling a fire pot. Thankfully he thought so too & quickly hopped down again but for the next hour he kept trying, as if the outcome would be any different. His need to love & be loved outweighed being uncomfortably hot.

Marlow, is another story.  He hovered.  He gets stepped on constantly because he is constantly underfoot, getting as close as possible without actually getting on me. When it gets close to bedtime his eyes never leave me, waiting anxiously for that moment when I scoop him up in my arms & cart him up the stairs to bed. If he thinks I have forgotten him a most anxious pacing around my ankles begins.

Cats are territorial so our bedroom is divided between the two.  Kirby likes the windowsill on my side of the bed.  Marlow sleeps at the bottom corners ~ in summer more on the MOTH's side of the bed because that's where the fan hits but not last night.  Last night he slept on my side & as so often happens when Marlow is feeling especially loving he draped one paw over my foot & gently just hooked his claws onto my leathery sole. It is not unusual for me to wake to find that cat gently patting some part of my body, just like a mother would pat a baby to reassure them. To say Marlow is a little odd is an understatement.

The scientific community informs me that in the wild cats don't vocalize. That is something they developed uniquely to communicate with their humans. They are pretty good at it too.  I know the difference between  Hello. I've missed you & where have you been? Where's my food? & Look what I've caught you! Kirby is particularly vocal chattering away in long paragraphs.

 Just like humans they want & need to reconnect after any absence but they do not have the effusiveness of dogs.  Kirby will wait, sitting upright & straining towards the sound of our voices waiting for us to notice him & greet him. Marlow will come sauntering towards us, tail plumed & carried high, waiting for his greeting. I feel so blessed to have always known the love of good cats.