Chaz has left the building...
Nov. 27th, 2007 11:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperance...through his eyes, nose and throat, largely. Damn this coldy thing! Damn it, I say! Soon as I think it's over, it comes back and clobbers me again.
Still'n'all, only a coldy thing. There's worse abroad.
And sometimes I am privileged to be a cat-cuddler. Barry spends quite a lot of time these days sitting on me, but he really only wants to sit, and maybe sleep. Mac, of course, is different. Mac does Active Sitting.
First, he bounces into my lap, because bouncing is what he does. Then he sits for a minute, very alert and purry. Then I can resist no longer, and stroke him. And he bites me. So I tip him onto his back, cupped as it were in the crook of my arm, like a baby; and he wraps his paws around my arm and does the disembowelling thing a bit with his back legs and chews mightily upon my hand.
Occasionally, one of his claws will break the skin, but that's incidental.
After a minute of mighty chewing, he sort of slows right down and just holds finger or thumb between his teeth; now that he has this prey defeated, he can look further. And what does he see, when he looks further? His own tail. Wafting to and fro, usually. So he hangs on to my arm with one paw and swats vaguely at the tail with the other.If I'm careful, at this point I can actually slip my arm free to, oh, scroll down my friends page or whatever, while he gets more interested in his tail, the snaring and chewing thereof. Wicked little thing keeps getting away, and has to be snared again; and the more that happens the more the tail lashes to and fro and the more interesting it is, and I have no idea if he connects the two things in his little head, whether he's doing it deliberately or whether he really hasn't realised that he's actually attached to that evil thrashy thing. Which is of course what it looks like, and what causes me to giggle.
So I go on cuddling him like a baby, and sometimes he gets this twitchy little kick in his back legs that he really can't stop, and eventually I can't resist tickling his tummy, and then we're back to wrath-of-cat and all his claws and teeth until I cast him from me.
And this, dear reader, is how I pass my time when I am full of cold and empty of work and really just sitting here, y'know...?
Still'n'all, only a coldy thing. There's worse abroad.
And sometimes I am privileged to be a cat-cuddler. Barry spends quite a lot of time these days sitting on me, but he really only wants to sit, and maybe sleep. Mac, of course, is different. Mac does Active Sitting.
First, he bounces into my lap, because bouncing is what he does. Then he sits for a minute, very alert and purry. Then I can resist no longer, and stroke him. And he bites me. So I tip him onto his back, cupped as it were in the crook of my arm, like a baby; and he wraps his paws around my arm and does the disembowelling thing a bit with his back legs and chews mightily upon my hand.
Occasionally, one of his claws will break the skin, but that's incidental.
After a minute of mighty chewing, he sort of slows right down and just holds finger or thumb between his teeth; now that he has this prey defeated, he can look further. And what does he see, when he looks further? His own tail. Wafting to and fro, usually. So he hangs on to my arm with one paw and swats vaguely at the tail with the other.If I'm careful, at this point I can actually slip my arm free to, oh, scroll down my friends page or whatever, while he gets more interested in his tail, the snaring and chewing thereof. Wicked little thing keeps getting away, and has to be snared again; and the more that happens the more the tail lashes to and fro and the more interesting it is, and I have no idea if he connects the two things in his little head, whether he's doing it deliberately or whether he really hasn't realised that he's actually attached to that evil thrashy thing. Which is of course what it looks like, and what causes me to giggle.
So I go on cuddling him like a baby, and sometimes he gets this twitchy little kick in his back legs that he really can't stop, and eventually I can't resist tickling his tummy, and then we're back to wrath-of-cat and all his claws and teeth until I cast him from me.
And this, dear reader, is how I pass my time when I am full of cold and empty of work and really just sitting here, y'know...?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-27 10:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-27 11:37 pm (UTC)If we were together, we could go to your writers' group together; being as we are, alas, separated, we must both stay home and commit nurture. Very soon now, I'm going to go and do bed-nurture. Which is a totally political move, as who else comes to bed when is a matter of negotiation, breakdown, all-out war, sneaky subversive missions, reluctant reconciliations, cold war and can-we-call-it-peace-if-Barry's-still-growling?
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-28 03:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-28 08:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-28 12:48 pm (UTC)