In praise of my cat…

This is not the web’s most original topic, but since this is my blog…

I chose Kai, my cat, from her picture on the Internet. She was living at the ASPCA shelter. It’s not the first time a pretty face has swayed me. She is a lovely creature: a mix of grey tabby with brown highlights.

Right now she is sleeping in my half-full laundry basket. Cat persons don’t mind a little fur on their clothing. My brother’s cat loves to sleep on piles of clothing straight from the dryer. He puts out the warm clothes on the living room carpet for easy access.

Kai is a furry adventurer. Her goal is to get inside every space normally closed off. The sound of the door opening under the bathroom sink brings her running. Race car drivers should have such reflexes.

Another target of opportunity is my feet when they stick out of the covers. At any second, blam, the claws. Ditto for loose pens, shoelaces, and bits of shiny paper.

Lately she has perfected the art of chasing her tail. Not content with the traditional dance of the tail, which resembles a top, she lies on her side, swishes the tail, and lunges for it. This oscillation can carry her across the floor in nothing flat. I ought to put a crank on her, attach it to a generator, and provide my own electricity.

Kai is skilled in the feline arts of affection: mock bites and licks on my finger. Sometimes she licks me for several minutes, until she gets a better offer from her tail.

But she’s no angel. She spurned my carpeted cat stool in favor of shredding my futon. I have a role of black duck tape that I need to put to good use.

Still, I forgive her many sins. She’s my one-and-only shelter kitty and, without getting sappy, I am not quite sure what I would do without her.

 

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