This morning as I slipped into my robe, I had to move a fluffy tail aside to keep from catching it in the zipper. As I made my way into the bathroom, I felt as though I were walking through a furry forest or, perhaps, wearing furry slippers, as Lily kept pace—almost underfoot.
As I prepared the cats’ breakfast, both Lily and Sophie walked around on my feet and between my ankles. Aloof? I don’t think so. It’s more like a cat-attack of the friendliest kind.
Oh, our fur-girls might snuggle in their cat beds for a nap throughout the day or perch at a window watching the world go by, but I’m rarely out of their sight. When they’re not holding down papers on my desk, walking across my keyboard, bringing me stuffed toys, helping me make the bed, begging for food, or curled up in my lap or at my feet, they’re positioned so they can see me. And if I leave the house, they’re generally waiting at a window for me to return. Our cats aloof? No they’re more like Velcro.
I agree that’s how my fur babies were too unless I came home with dog smell on me then my Katie would go half way down the hall so I could see her with back turned to me and when I called her she would just flick her ear at me for about 15 minutes I miss them sooo much but not ready for more yet.
I recall a couple of my cats over the past almost 60 years of being owned by them as being aloof. However, most of them “seemed”, for example, to be trying to trip me as I attempted to quickly get to the kitchen and their food so that I could prevent them from starving to death (ha).
I’ve had so many but here are a few: one who would gladly leap into the lap of any visitor that would allow them to, one who would tap me on the head as I walked thru the kitchen as they were at their post atop the refrigerator, and one who would lick my eyelids to get me up so that I could get to the activity I mention above.
They would seemingly be out of sight, behind a couch, under a bed or whatever and just as I’d settle down to do something complicated and messy at the dining room table like my taxes… at least 2 would suddenly appear to “help” me with my interesting project.
At one time I had 9 cats – yes 9 – and I loved them dearly and would never regret being owned by them. I loved them all. I now live in a senior facility that does allow pets. I’m allowed to have one cat and one dog. I already had a dog but whittling down to 1 cat was a challenge.
My mom always had 2 or 3 cats that owned her. I recall how she’d let them pull pieces of meat out of her sandwichs as she ate lunch while reading her paper. She always had to wait for the cat to get up so she could turn the page. I loved her and how she loved her babies.
Its been a wonderful life with my life with cats and the dogs that either put up with them or truly loved them as much as I have.
Touching. What lucky, lucky cats you had and it’s obvious you’ve enjoyed them immensely.