I’m trying to write a blog, but there’s a fat cat in my lap -- along with my laptop.
The cat is winning.
All morning, Oreo has been aloof, distant, and refusing to fetch her toy. Obviously, she has had her kitty whiskers bent because we’ve been gone for four days.
But at the moment, she’s making up for her sourpuss mood. And her timing couldn’t be worse. I’m on deadline and now she’s nibbling on my left wrist -- Ow! That tickles! -- and tttttthe wwwwwway I sssssee it, this is going to be an impossible task.
Wait a minute. My tuxedo cat has settled down.
It’s a stretch to hit the keys and see the document with her planted in the center of things. But maybe if I just s-l-o-w-l-y dust off some of the cat hair on my computer screen, I can continue.
Yikes! That was a mistake.
She’s up and walking on the kkkkkkkeeeerewwwwtttttttweeeeebbbbbbbbllllllll;;;; KEYS. But I guess you already knew that.
And to think, the foster pet “mom” was concerned that Oreo might be too standoffish. Maybe she meant stand-on-ish.
The timing just isn’t right.
I had planned to tell you about our bicycling on the Trail of the Coeur d’ Alene in Idaho, but instead this feline is napping on my laptop. So I’ll just save those stories for another day.
Right now, the easiest thing to do with a cat in my lap is to have my “quiet time.” There’s a list of prayerful needs a mile long -- a new acquaintance facing breast cancer, journey mercies for neighbors in Ireland, a young soldier at boot camp, to name a few.
So while I’m detained from writing, I’ll get into praying. I’m sure God can hear me above the purring.