is a crotchety old man cat. He’s about 80 in cat years. His leg gets stiff, he limps, and his fur is slowly turning whiter. Sleep is his primary state. Skits is the boss of the house and he knows it. Recently, Skittles and I have become fast(er) companions. Still bitter about my leaving him during my college and grad school years (and rough housing during his kitten years), Skits and I have always had a love-hate relationship–with me loving him to death and him running in the opposite direction.
Books, however, have brought us together. My extensive reading habit means I sit more than anyone else in the house. With some coaxing and the chilly winter air of Chicago to contend with, my lap has become Skittles’s new favorite nap spot. Although reading with a cat on your lap can require some contortions, we’re getting along.
I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.