May 25, 2005

Lap dance

Winter approaches. Actually, winter has sent its half-cousin ahead, prepping the way - it's now cold in Johannesburg in the evenings.

This means that the Great Lap War has begun. Whereas previously, my cat would wait at least 45 minutes after I had sat down before deigning to grace my lap with her furry presence, she now waits, oh, about 2.7 seconds before climbing up. The trouble is, of course, that I am human. And occasionally need to get up to fetch cigarettes, get a drink, go to the loo, cook supper, light incense, or any one of the number of things that I have not yet found a way to do while remaining seated on the couch.

Had this been summer, a mere shift in the air pressure arround my seated figure would have sent her scurrying away. Now, with the cold, when I rise, and am practically standing, my lap is a thing no more. Yet she (and her claws) will be bodily attached to where my lap used to be. She's like velcro - same sound, 1000 times more painful.

I've lost count of the number of times I have sworn to have her declawed, as I regard my ripped upholstery/clothes/skin with a grimace.

However, there has been a development as of late. She now reckons that if she falls asleep, there's no way that I would dare disturb her by actually getting up. All it means is that I rise, and she tumbles in a somnambulent ball to the side.

  :::  a Thought ritual performed at 05:00 PM   :::