This morning as I slipped into my robe, I had to move a fluffy tail aside to keep from catching it in the zipper. As I made my way into the bathroom, I felt as though I were walking through a furry forest or, perhaps, wearing furry slippers, as Lily kept pace—almost underfoot.
As I prepared the cats’ breakfast, both Lily and Sophie walked around on my feet and between my ankles. Aloof? I don’t think so. It’s more like a cat-attack of the friendliest kind.
Oh, our fur-girls might snuggle in their cat beds for a nap throughout the day or perch at a window watching the world go by, but I’m rarely out of their sight. When they’re not holding down papers on my desk, walking across my keyboard, bringing me stuffed toys, helping me make the bed, begging for food, or curled up in my lap or at my feet, they’re positioned so they can see me. And if I leave the house, they’re generally waiting at a window for me to return. Our cats aloof? No they’re more like Velcro.