Trapped By Love

Last summer, when the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty first came to live with me, he favored sitting in the recliner. He was new here and hadn't quite figured out just where he fit best in the decor. He was affectionate in his way. He'd accept a pat on the head and would often wander by to rub his chin against my hand. Mostly, though, he would sit in the recliner and rest his head on the arm whilst gazing at me thoughtfully. I was pretty sure he liked me.

He was not a lap cat. He still isn't.

However, he has decided over the last six months or so that I am worthy of his proximity. He doesn't sit in the recliner much anymore. Sure, he'll wander over every now and again.

Especially if the fan is in the window and he can catch a nice, cooling breeze.

These recliner trips are now quite rare, though. He has better places to be.

That place being the floor by the couch. More specifically, the floor by the couch and within inches of my feet.

With the coffee table in front of me, the knitting basket and laptop stand to my left and an AGK so close to my right that I often inadvertently nudge him with my feet, I have very little room in which to maneuver. In addition, it is now a certainty that the cat likes me rather than mere speculation. He doesn't take kindly to my having to get up. What if I go to the bathroom and get sucked into the toilet? How can we be sure that there isn't a troll living in the fridge right behind the cans of soda just waiting to drag me off to the alternate universe contained in the back of this appliance? Worse, there is always the possibility that I might make a break for the door and then who knows when I'll be back? It could be hours! Then who will be in charge of opening the cans????

I can generally get past him. But sometimes he gets a bit clingy and that is not a comfortable moment. Especially now that we have entered into Sandal Season.

Which is a lengthy way of explaining why I am photographing the not-sleeve against notebook paper today rather than the off-white cloth I generally use for this sort of thing.

We can only be grateful for the fact that the camera, not-sleeve and notebook were within reach of my prison. Otherwise, I shudder to think how we might have fared without pictures of this knitted masterpiece...

And if anyone has any suggestions for how I can get the camera case back with all fingers intact, I'm listening. It's the strap he seems to desire.

I think I know a certain Absurdly Gi-normous roommate who is getting fed early tonight. The Water Squirting Bottle Of Terror is out of reach and I'm fresh out of other distractions...

SA