Today, I was quite fortunate to have been graced by the Queen of Cheek honouring me by settling on my lap for all of 15 minutes. Does she do so looking sweet and thoroughly cat-like? Does she curl up in a little ball and wrap her tail around her head? Nope. She comes wearing her owl face.
Oh, Che Fufu. I keep expecting you to hoot.
The affections of my cat come when she wants to give them. Yes, I know. If I wanted unconditional and constant affection, I should’ve gotten a dog. But, you see…Che Fufu is my cat, but my husband’s dog.
When I call her, she looks at me as if I were an annoying mosquito or puppy that jumps and keeps inviting her to play, with an expression that says, ‘You must be kidding, human’. Yet, my husband calls her, and she runs and leaps over furniture to get to him as fast as her little legs will carry her and flies through the air with much grace and ease.
I’ll take what I can get and enjoy her attention when she gives it. The remainder of the time we have an understanding: I, human with opposable thumbs, will feed her, clean her littler box, clean up her hair, hairballs and stray bits of litter that are constantly tracked through the house and play and pet her when she wishes; she, cat with a mind utterly her own, will grace me with affection at her own pace, when she wishes and will also leave signs of her love in the form of hairballs and bits of stray litter everywhere.
But, isn’t she lovely?
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