There's A Cat On My Desk

There's something I just love about having one of the cats on my desk as I
write. Aside from the fact that their initial instinct is to plant
themselves directly in the middle of what I'm trying to do in just such a
way so's I can't do it, there is something so blissfully charming about
having a cat on my desk as I write, something so warmly satisfying, just a
big warm fuzzy. Such a sense of companionship, a sense of home, that even
when I have nothing more to say, I don't want to stop writing, because there
's a cat on my desk, and something about that just feels so right. There's a
cat on my desk, and he's taking a bath, now he's scratching, and now, he's
looking for love in all the right places. I love my cats, and there is just
something so right about a cat on my desk, something that makes me think
that maybe my life just isn't so bad after all.


Ann

You've painted a lovely picture. I got warm fuzzies just reading it.
Unfortunately, my cats don't give me warm fuzzies when I try to write. Frank
loves to be kissed on the head. So he's standing on the keyboard with his head
in my face. He alternates positions and sticks the other end in my face for a
while. Then he acts really impatient, as if he's saying, "FOR GODS SAKES LOOK
AT MY BUTT." Then he starts biting my fingers. So I usually stop and kiss him
on the head, he kisses back (it's really disgusting to non-cat people, I
wouldn't tell that to just anybody). Frank's awfully needy.

Sherry