We continue on our COVID odyssey and it’s been a year-and-a-half since I first set up shop in The Closet. I’ve lately fallen in love with Mr. Darcy twice more, if you can believe it. Miss Bingley will not quit, but that man is mine! And I was just blackmailed by my snake of an ex-husband into taking possession of a solid gold icon, a piece in a secret hoard of art treasures stolen by the Nazis that dangerous men are prepared to kill for. It really is crazy in that closet!
Sometimes the heat in there gets to be too much and escape is imperative. And then, a few months ago, things started getting crazy outside The Closet, too: in a dramatic departure from her historical MO, our demon of a cat started waiting for me outside the door as I recorded – and letting me pet her when I appeared. She didn’t even bite me. At least not immediately…
Our cat is a curious creature who has generally had very little in common with the classic affectionate cuddler. She literally lies in wait to snipe my husband as he walks through the house. I regularly hear masculine yelps followed immediately by several rapid footsteps, expletives, and admonitions. This brings no end of entertainment to my life. In her less humorous acts of self-expression, she makes free with both teeth and claws, and her humans’ self-preservation has required exhaustive examination of kitty body language.
Things reached a new level of crazy, then, when, starting about a week ago, apropos of absolutely nothing, she began to leap up onto our big, comfy chair to sit with me in classic cuddly cat fashion. She’s stretched out beside me even now. Will the crazy never end?!