The house gets down to 63 during the night. It would be a waste to heat it up in the morning only to run out the door an hour later so we get by on a space heater in the office for our daily routine.
Parker kitty has taken to jumping up on my lap in the morning. She’s demanding about this new ritual so I tend to give in and let her curl up while I have coffee and check email. It’s very amusing as she seems to enjoy Ray’s company much more than mine.
This morning, after she got herself all cozy, Ray turned around and said “See! She loves her dad.” I told him that she hates her dad and the notion of her loving me was anthropomorphic. The real reason she wants to be on my lap is to draw my body heat away for her own comfort. Ray didn’t agree.
I suddenly realized saying she hates me is just as anthropomorphic as saying she loves me.
Does my cat love me? She seems to express affection when I’m feeding her or sharing my personal body heat (which I need at six a.m.) but other than that, she’s pretty much on her own.
This evening, after a frustrating work day, Parker defiantly jumped up on the cocktail table and started lapping away at my martini.
LOVE: Oh, Mr. Human, thank you for sharing your delicious martini with me. I’ve had such a tiresome kitty-kat day.
HATE: Fuck you asshole! I’m getting me some of this juice ’cause I do whatever the fuck I want to around my domain!!
Do you see the love on her kitty-kat face? You tell me . . .