My cats are sneaky.
All cats are, of course. It’s part of their mystique. I used to swear that Hoover was a ninja. I’d leave a room that had Hoover in it, only to find him already occupying some far region of the house when I got there.
Now that I only have 500 square feet or so for them to ninja through, they have a harder time sneaking from place to place. Because, really, it’s all one room, more or less. But cats are creative, so they have found other ways to be mysterious.
They sneak onto my lap without my noticing.
It happened to me this morning, in fact. I was sitting in one of my orange Goodwill armchairs, which are normally reserved for the cats. However, this particular chair is directly across from my cellphone signal booster, so it’s the best seat for talking on the phone. I was equipped with coffee and a little free time, so I decided to call my sister. And since it was a Saturday, I didn’t have to be concerned about the amount of cat hair that was about to stick to my jeans. Saturdays are meant for cat hair accumulation.
My lap was cat free.
I called my sister. She was driving, and since she doesn’t have a hands-free Bluetooth thingy in her minivan, it was technically illegal for her to talk to me. So we kept the conversation brief–and she stuck to the back roads while we talked.
When I hung up, I realized my lap was warm. The Muffin Man was curled up on it.
He does this to me all the time. I look down, and there he is. How long has he been there? I never know. And the stealth doesn’t end there. Sometimes they trade places without my noticing. I have the Muffin Man on my lap one minute, and the next thing I know, he has turned into Ebenezer. I think it must be a game they play. And they may think I’m losing–but I’m not. I’m the winner because cats are warm and soft and full of purrs, and they can sneak onto my lap any time they wish.