I don’t think I’m a cat person, but it’s hard not to like Bessie.  Especially when she curls up in your lap and and nudges your hand with her head because she wants to be petted, now, right now.  And while she’s purring away, my legs will go numb and my knees will ache, but I won’t move her.  It just seems like a crime to disturb a snoozing kitty.

Yet, after she’s done lapping up all your attention, no amount of cajoling will get her to show you any love.  No gratitude for my suffering legs or my unwavering petting services.  Just yawn, stretch, and leave.   The minute I turn my attention back to work, though, she jumps onto my desk and lays on my laptop. Well, what could I do except to start typing with one hand, while rubbing her tummy with the other.

Since my roommates are allergic, Bessie had to stay in my room for the two nights that I’ve had her over.  And let me just say that no amount of cuteness or adorable shows of feline quirkiness can possibly win me over at 3 AM when I’ve woken up for the tenth time because she’s dashing around my room like the crazed nocturnal monster that she is.  That’s when I kick myself for having let her snooze on my lap earlier instead of shoving her aside and chasing her around my room to wear her out.  While she’s busy hunting some imaginary prey or mewing up a storm, I’m busy trying to fight the urge to throw her out the window.  Grumpy as I am, though, forgiveness always come in the morning.

Still, as much as I enjoyed the lap company, I much prefer seeing Bessie during the day.  And only at my friend’s apartment.

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