The Pussy Whisperer

A friend of mine once had a cat who seemed to enjoy hissing at me, and taking a swipe at me whenever I walked past her. She would, at what seemed to be very random moments, find any reason to howl her displeasure with my being in her home. And yet, out of the blue, this same cat would hop up into my lap without warning, provocation, or invitation, and take a nap.

She died a little more than a year ago, and my friend recently got another cat, this time a boy. I met him last night and, at first, he was not sure about me. For a while he acted aloof, but eventually came around to check me out. I cautiously presented my hand for a sniff…

“Don’t worry, he won’t hiss, or swipe at you,” my friend assured me. “One thing is for sure: this guy won’t be jumping up in your lap! He does not like to be held.”

A couple hours later? Yep. This happened…

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I’m not sure if it was because he smelled pizza on me, or just knew I’m allergic and wanted to make me suffer. Either way there was a cat in my lap. The Pussy Whisperer strikes again!

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