Penelope here. You may have noticed that my mom (you know her as Bonnie) has been a slacker when it comes to posting on this blog. I like to post (mostly to complain), but as remarkable and talented as I am, I’m unable to post without help.
So I cajoled and whined and got her to agree to cooperate today. I hate that she has to help me because I didn’t want her to know what I’m about to admit: I am becoming more affectionate. And liking it. Loving it!
As you may recall (but probably not), I’m part Abyssinian. Abyssinians have some common traits: Long legs that can jump pretty high, pointy ears, a narrow (on the bottom) face, and a masterful aloofness. Yes, yes, I know all cats are supposed to be aloof, but Abs can be really icy. When they want to be. And that’s the secret.
When I came into this household, I did the requisite rubbing up against their legs, mainly to gain their acceptance so they’d feed me and scoop my litter box. After a while, I jumped onto the bed with them but refused to spend the night. I also sidled up to each of them backward, showing my lovely behind rather than face them. They learned to live with this
But lately, I find myself craving a good pet session. I define good as including belly rubs and massages behind my ears and under my chin. I also find myself following mom around the house much of the day. (She’s home so much now that she’s retired.) And when she takes a nap, I hop up on the bed next to her, making sure my body is pressed up against hers. When I’ve had enough of her petting, or she decides to start wasting time on her iPad (I hate that thing; it takes away valuable time from her main purpose: meeting my every need!), I curl up and go to sleep, still making sure part of me is touching her. Sometimes I throw a paw over her leg just to make sure she stays there to keep me company (see photo, below). I can lie like that for hours. And so can she, if she’s sleepy enough or there’s a good true crime show on TV. (For goodness sake, hasn’t she seen enough of murder and mayhem? Those blood-curdling screams wake me up from a pleasant snooze.)
The next thing is even harder to admit: I have been occasionally sitting on mom’s lap, once for 20 whole minutes. She seems thrilled and proud when I do that, as if I’ve just been awarded a red ribbon at a cat show. I don’t do it too often, but if it’ll get me more petting and better treats, I’ll bump it up to once a week.
Lest you think I’m not living up to my Abyssinian reputation, I still will not allow either of them to pick me up. When it’s time for a visit to the vet, I won’t go into the carrier on my own, so dad usually scoops me up, only after an exhausting (for both of us) chase through the house.
I also will remain aloof (in this case invisible) whenever guests, workmen, cleaning women, or anyone else is in the house. Canoodling with mom and dad is now on my list of appropriate behaviors, but greeting strangers is definitely not. At least not now. Watch this space.