My Lap or Yours

Our two cats have never been lap cats. They're five and a half now, and between the two of them, have sat still on exactly one lap one time for less than one minute. They will crawl up onto Laughing Boy when he is sleeping, sometimes.

The Princess we can pick up, if we keep moving. If we stop, she wants down. Handsome Boy, the gray cat, crawled up me every day at the exact same time for the first week we had him, and fell asleep for forty five minutes purring with his head on my shoulder. Since then, nada. We cannot pick him up at all. He needs two of his own feet on the ground at all times, if hands are on him. He will jump onto LB's back sometimes, when LB leans over to pick something up. And then the cat sits down. LB, being the patient sort, stays like that for two or three minutes until the cat gets bored and jumps back down.

Hey, whatever makes them happy.

All of that to say, it must be that the cats know it is the last day of NaNoWriMo and I have to cram in 6,700 words to finish on time. Because the Princess just curled up on my lap purring for 35 minutes straight. Head in my hand. And then allowed me to stick a camera phone in her face and take a picture of it.



Fiendish conspiracists, those kitties!