I’m a little delirious, but this thought occurred to me yesterday and I thought it was too silly to not post. Very much inspired by one of the more recent posts at terrible Minds– Beware of Writer II— I present ways my cat is like a writer.

First off, I have two cats. One technically belongs to my boyfriend and the other is my kitty (as much as any cat can belong to someone). When we went out looking for cats, it was just luck we happened across these two close in age and each fell in love with both of them.

The first one we met was a small black kitten who from the start walked all over my boyfriend. She was placed in his arms, and she ran in circles on his shoulders circling his head. At one point, when the technician left the room, she leaped  from my boyfriend’s shoulders to a high up shelf with a bunch of those cones they stick on animals they don’t want gnawing on wounds.

Oh we fell in love with her right away. She was brought home and named “Danger” for being, well, herself.

Obviously the Crazy One

At the same time I met my cat. A little fluffy cat, more fur than body. He was smaller, and he was so very shy. The technician put him in my arms and warned me that he was a bolter. But he didn’t bolt. It wasn’t until I put him back in his cage that he went and hid behind his food bowl, peeking out from behind it every so often as if to be sure I was still there.

We brought him home and called him Trouble. Never a more fitting name.

 

Obviously the cute one

Now between these two kitties, which would be the writer cat? I’ll give you a hint– It’s not the obviously crazy one. Nope. It’s the cute fluffy one. The one no one ever suspects. And so I present a couple silly ways that he is like a writer.

1. He loves paper. Loves paper. I’ve caught him nestled among my notebooks more than once and he looks right at home.

2. He hates paper. Sometimes, just like the rest of us, he can’t stand to look at paper. It taunts him and teases him, laughing because he’ll never know how to fill a page. In those moments of complete rage, he finds the nearest paper and shreds it. (Usually into neat little piles.) Then he licks his paws and cleans his face like he’s just taken down some humongous kill.

3. He’s a day dreamer. Okay, maybe I’m taking some liberalities with this, but I swear that he can sit and stare out the window longer than other cats. Often times, he falls asleep sitting up in the window. It amuses the neighbors to no end when they walk past and see a fluffy sleeping kitty sitting in the window with his eyes shut and his head nodding.

4. He’s easily entertained. The best toy ever? A bag of foam balls. He wants nothing else in the world. No other toy amuses him as much as those do. He bats them around, tosses them in the air, looses them, finds them again (when he remembers them). What he likes about them is how high they fly into the air. What’s he doing? I dunno, but it could be anything. Maybe he pretends he’s wrestling a bear or another cat or taking down dragons or monsters.  Whatever he’s doing, it’s looks like fun.

5. He gets strange looks from the other cat. And you’ve seen the other cat. She has no right to look at anyone askew, and yet she does. She watches him playing with his foam balls and his stuffed Care Bear key chain (oh I didn’t mention that? It’s his OTHER favorite toy), and she can’t help tilting her head wondering what’s the big deal. If she were a writer cat too, she’d get it, but then we’d have some serious problems. (TWO writer cats? That’s just too much.)

6. Sometimes he talks to himself in the hall way. This also gets looks from the other cat. And me. And my boyfriend. So you can imagine the three of us (usually two humans with a cat in the middle) watching our normally adorable fluffy cat talking to himself in the hall.  He also seems to look up and talk to imaginary ceiling cat sometimes for guidance. Perhaps searching for his muse?

7. He’s a ‘fraidy cat. Normal things scare him. Pillow cushions, DumDum lollipops, a cane. I am convinced that it’s due to an overactive imagination. He probably tells himself horror stories at night before he goes to sleep or something. Either way, he sees possibilities while the other cat is completely oblivious.

 

Anyway, excuse me for the Monday silliness. I’m slightly sick, though mostly getting better. Still I am a horrible sick person.

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