Old Cats

My cats are old. Old enough that they're pretty set in their ways. I know that Clawdio (15) is the cat that no one sees. Luke (13) is the big, friendly guy who doesn't make eye contact. And Maya (12) will cuddle with just about anyone as long as they sit still.

Lately, when I crawl into bed at night, Clawdio has been curling up on my hips and shoulder diving into me for attention. If anyone else comes near us, he whacks them away with an open paw and a hiss, but no claws.

When I am sitting at my desk downstairs, Maya comes over stares at me. She climbs into my lap a lot and just sits there. I thought she was deciding she would be the "downstairs" cat. But now, I think she's just annoyed that I'm in her favorite chair.

Before my surgery, I got tired of moving of the kitchen table chairs back and forth to the desk, so I broke down and went to Pier One during one of their sales and got this blue flowery chair. It's probably the girliest thing I've every purchased. It was comfortable to sit in and it was 40% off with an extra 10% for getting a Pier One credit card. That's not bad.

And since then, Maya has been sleeping on it. So, if you see me walking around town with a bunch of cat hair on my behind -- it's courtesy of Maya, who would like me to very much go mow the lawn so that she can take a mid-morning snooze, now that X-man is at school on HER chair.