A post about my cats, because I can.
What's the best thing about living with cats?
Having warm purring furry lumps stationed somewhere in your bed at night. I swear, I sleep better with cats around.
When I first moved home again, I could not get a single wretched beast in this house to sleep with me. Aysel and Roo predominantly slept with my parents, Maggie is deeply attached to her couch and her little pink bed (we bought this RIDICULOUS pink cat bed for Aysel because he likes pink things, but he got bored with it after like, two weeks), and Tessy...well, Tess is Tess. She lurks in various and sundry places all over the house, usually glowering at anyone who walks by. This applies to humans as well as other cats...Tessy is often rather moody.
But the last several nights, for perhaps a week and a half now, she has nudged open my door and crept in, tail twitching, green eyes bright in the dense blackness that is her fur. She'll spring up lightly onto the bed, and depending on her mood, she'll either look at me casually as if to say, "Oh, fancy seeing you here" before curling up somewhere on the bed--the first few nights, she chose the far corner of the foot of the bed, furthest from me. Or else she'll jump up and say, "Oh, hai", and look at me, the end of her tail flicking slightly, till I make kissy noises at her, at which point she'll creep up the bed toward me as if it were her idea all along that I should pet her. She will, after she has had her fill of affection, curl up somewhere, where I can watch her settling into sleep. Black cats are particularly adorable when they sleep; with her eyes closed and chin tucked, all you see is dense soft darkness.
Aysel, on the other hand...he has also joined us at night on occasion, though in different ways. He creeps in just as casually as Tessy does, though he's not always looking to nest. Sometimes he has to explore. He'll jump up onto the dresser and carefully pick his way through the heaps of things there, sending things crashing in that inexplicable manner of his. I inevitably have to shout at him, which gets me a blank, somewhat perplexed look. Why would I want to yell at him? his look asks. When at last he sleeps, it is inevitably on the heap of discarded mattress pad in the corner--camouflage for him, because it is white and so is he. When he sleeps, if you can't see the pinks of his ears, he is very well hidden.
In other news, I have a story for NaNoWriMo and it is not any of the options I presented to you fine folk. It hit me this past week. A girl who is battling insomnia is taken away each night by undefined entities because the lack of sleep--combined with some sort of sleeping draught that is clearly not working to make her sleep--is opening her mind to such things. Might as well capitalize on the insomnia I've been battling, ja?
Having warm purring furry lumps stationed somewhere in your bed at night. I swear, I sleep better with cats around.
When I first moved home again, I could not get a single wretched beast in this house to sleep with me. Aysel and Roo predominantly slept with my parents, Maggie is deeply attached to her couch and her little pink bed (we bought this RIDICULOUS pink cat bed for Aysel because he likes pink things, but he got bored with it after like, two weeks), and Tessy...well, Tess is Tess. She lurks in various and sundry places all over the house, usually glowering at anyone who walks by. This applies to humans as well as other cats...Tessy is often rather moody.
But the last several nights, for perhaps a week and a half now, she has nudged open my door and crept in, tail twitching, green eyes bright in the dense blackness that is her fur. She'll spring up lightly onto the bed, and depending on her mood, she'll either look at me casually as if to say, "Oh, fancy seeing you here" before curling up somewhere on the bed--the first few nights, she chose the far corner of the foot of the bed, furthest from me. Or else she'll jump up and say, "Oh, hai", and look at me, the end of her tail flicking slightly, till I make kissy noises at her, at which point she'll creep up the bed toward me as if it were her idea all along that I should pet her. She will, after she has had her fill of affection, curl up somewhere, where I can watch her settling into sleep. Black cats are particularly adorable when they sleep; with her eyes closed and chin tucked, all you see is dense soft darkness.
Aysel, on the other hand...he has also joined us at night on occasion, though in different ways. He creeps in just as casually as Tessy does, though he's not always looking to nest. Sometimes he has to explore. He'll jump up onto the dresser and carefully pick his way through the heaps of things there, sending things crashing in that inexplicable manner of his. I inevitably have to shout at him, which gets me a blank, somewhat perplexed look. Why would I want to yell at him? his look asks. When at last he sleeps, it is inevitably on the heap of discarded mattress pad in the corner--camouflage for him, because it is white and so is he. When he sleeps, if you can't see the pinks of his ears, he is very well hidden.
In other news, I have a story for NaNoWriMo and it is not any of the options I presented to you fine folk. It hit me this past week. A girl who is battling insomnia is taken away each night by undefined entities because the lack of sleep--combined with some sort of sleeping draught that is clearly not working to make her sleep--is opening her mind to such things. Might as well capitalize on the insomnia I've been battling, ja?