Sunday, January 6, 2019


It has been previously well-documented here (in the last post, in fact) how much Middle loves our cat, Kimo. This relationship is, actually, quite reciprocal; Middle is Kimo's chosen person, and far be it from anyone to come between them. Kimo goes up and sleeps with Middle at night, cooperates more for claw trimmings when Middle is present, and even does tricks that Middle has taught her.

But when Kimo isn't feeling like the company of the entire Triple Threat (TM), she will come seek me out. Sometimes, when she tires of hanging out in the girls' room after bedtime, she comes and nestles in the crook of my neck as I'm watching television late at night (not uncomfortable in the least). Or, like tonight, she'll settle on the pillow at the other end of my "office" loveseat in the living room and keep me company while I work.

Except she didn't choose so much the pillow tonight as she did my feet.

This had gone on long enough that I needed to both change positions (cranky ankle) and go move laundry over, so I got up, and she jumped to the floor. I was gone from the couch about ten minutes, maybe fifteen, between getting clothes out of the dryer and into the basket, out of the washer and into the dryer, and starting a new washer load.

And then I came back upstairs, expecting to continue work on the manuscript I've been plodding through second-round edits on. I found this instead.

"This is not your spot!" I exclaimed.

You can see how concerned she was about that.

I went downstairs to get myself a refill of Diet Dr Pepper and paused in the den, where Hubby and the girls are watching TV and folding laundry. I pointed at Middle. "Your cat!"


"Your cat! It wasn't enough that she sat on my feet while I edited!"

Middle grinned. "Awwwww!"

I wasn't done. "I went down to take care of the laundry, and I came back, and she took my spot!"


"I told her this was not her room. Then, she went right back to sleep!"

Middle hadn't stopped smiling. "Awwwwwww!"

Hubby laughed at me outright. "What made you think that you could come in here and get any sympathy from that?" He gestured towards our daughter.

I jabbed a finger at her. "Your cat!"

She giggled as I left the room.

Hear me roar.
Kimo had one eye open when I approached the love seat again.

"I'm going to have to evict you," I said as she gazed at me balefully through her open eye. I hefted her off the couch and sat down. "I still have work to do." (Of course, I'm writing this post instead.)

By the way, she didn't go off in a huff.

I think she wants my blankie.