Is that a scribble on my manuscript, or are you just pleased to edit me?

[desperance]

Barry has taken to interrupting my work on a regular basis, to claim some heavyweight petting. He is, of course, welcome - it's the only known instance under which he can be induced to commit a little brief near-inaudible purring - but it does apparently demand that he sit on the manuscript I'm working from. Couldn't possibly sit on the other side of the keyboard, where the desk is clear, no sir. Bottom must be planted firmly on papers, thank you. And then there is a fair amount of shifting around, as my hand pays its proper tribute to his ears and under-chin areas; and then he leaves, and I turn back to my work, and--

Oh, did I strike that word out? And that line? I wonder why? Oh - no. That's not a pen-stroke, it's a black cat-hair. So's that. And that. And...