Fur. It’s everywhere. Yesterday I got home from my day job and sat down at my desk to write. My middle cat, Nadya, hopped up on my lap for some cuddles. I pet her, and loved on her, and she jumped down.
And I had fur in my glasses. Between the glass and my eyeball. Hrr???
So why do we put up with this?
Because cats are cuddle muffins. An Austrian friend of ours calls it “snoogling.” Cats are great snooglers. He believes male cats, especially large ones, are better snooglers.
I think it depends on the context. For example, if I’m at my desk, Nadya will climb up on the shredder to my right and then onto my lap. She knows she’s not supposed to be on the desk, but she’ll wedge herself between my stomach and the desk and lean… on… my… hands… while… I… try… to… type… sajs;lkdfjl;dkja;ls…
She full on lies across my husband’s mousing arm when he’s trying to work on photo editing for his business.
Boria, our largest and oldest cat, isn’t interested in snoogling if you’re looking at him. He’ll only snoogle if you don’t look at him and “don’t notice” he’s there.
This is difficult when he’s twenty pounds and white.
He likes to pin your legs to the couch or the bed. In fact, I think my kid’s legs are stunted because he grew up with a cat on them. (This is an inside joke, because my kid is a head taller than me or my husband.)
And then there’s Kolya. Most of the time he runs around like his tail’s on fire. But when he wants to cuddle, it’s when I pull out my journal. Or my knitting. Or my loom. Or my beads. Or… You get the picture.
I wish *I* could get the picture, because his other favorite thing to do is chew on my glasses. I have to put them in their hard case at night, or risk waking up to perforated spectacles. My last pair had little teeth marks all over the ear pieces from when he was a baby and before I was on to his dastardly plans. Now we know better.
And then there’s when they barf on the bed because of fur balls. Or, my favorite, on the lintel of the bathroom, right before I get up to go in there and am not yet awake, nor wearing my glasses, so I can’t see the floor clearly. The stuff oozes between your toes and you know you’ve been gotten by a smug ball of fur that will soon be a hat, complete with tail.
Remind me, why do we have cats again?
Oh, yes. The snoogling.