Friday, January 13, 2006

The New Man in My Life

I have been adopted by a cat. His name is Stoney. He is big, orange, and very soft. Sweet, but not too bright. Very affectionate. In theory, he has come to live with my roommate, as her sister can no longer keep him. But Stoney has decided that he wants to be my kitty. He runs to meet me when I come in the door, or even when I enter a room. He twines between my legs when I am standing (or attempting to walk), and climbs into my lap when I am sitting.

He is determined to move into my bedroom. (I keep him and Ashley, the diabetic cat mentioned in "Danger to Self" below, out of my room because I am moderately allergic. I can live with them, but they can't sleep on my pillow. Which, being cats, they would.)

If my person is unavalable to him, he contents himself with one or another of my possesions. I found him in my tote bag this morning, snuggled up with my library books and (formerly clean) sweater. The other day he was lying across several of my shoes.

It is good to be loved, but what do I do about how bad I feel when it's time to go to bed, and he gets up to come too, and I shut the door in his sweet, bewildered face? Night after night, it's the same. I explained to him about allgergies, and how he is a very nice cat but has a great deal of dander along with his nice soft fur, but I could tell from his expression that he just didn't understand. He's a cat of great personal loyalty, but limited intellect.

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