My Writing Assistant

I am sitting here tonight with my assistant.  I haven’t spoken of him much, but then he’s usually hiding under the bed in order to escape the attentions of The Idiot Dog.  The dog LOVES him, but his attentions are not returned.  In fact, the dog as all kinds of welts on his face and ears from loving my kitty too much.  The cat can take care of himself, but why should he have to exert the energy?

This fantastic cat of mine used to belong to My Honey, but three months of bed rest with each kid endeared me to him nothing nothing else could have.  He is a giant, ginger tabby with enormously long whiskers and eyebrows.  Imagine Andy Rooney if he was a cat – those ridiculous eyebrows only in white whiskers.  He also has feathers between his toes that extend about 1/2 inch from each foot.  That just goes to show you how little moving around he actually does.  He has very long hair and right now with the humidity, he looks like he’s been run through the fluff cycle of a dryer.  My favorite thing of all though, is his belly.  The hair there is curly and soft and he loves to have me scratch his tummy.

Right now he’s assumed a very sphinxish position on my desk.  He really wanted to lay on the key board, but unfortunately I’m using it right now.  He had to settle with laying across all the cards I have stacked up up here from my birthday.  Every time he moves you can hear one of the musical ones sing.  He did seem slightly put out when a cartoon started singing, “Do your boobs hang low, do they wobble to and fro….” (thank you, Dona) but Ladies Night by Kool and the Gang doesn’t seem to bother him at all.  Apparently, he’s a fan of 70’s disco. 

The Kitty has a little dance he does when he’s trying to get you to come back to bed with him.  He’ll sit in the middle of the living room, staring at you as only a cat can.  The minute you stand up, he jumps and turns in the air and runs towards the bedroom, all the while looking over his shoulder to make sure you’re following him.  He will do this over and over and over until you give in to his seductive dance.

In fact, I’m feeling a little sleepy now.  I think I’ll humor him and dance on to bed.  Good night, Dear Reader.