In the morning, I wake up to his curled up on the pillow behind my head. He immediately notices I'm awake and pushes his head under my hand for attention. If I fall back asleep during the giving of these affections, he will attempt to lick my forehead. When I get up, he grunts at me to show his disappointment. He'll often shadow me through my morning; he'll sit regally in the walkway between the kitchen and dining room observing my mom's breakfast preparations from a distance.He trots excitedly behind me when he sees me heading for the computer. I've never quite figured out why he loves to be near the computer, but I think it's something he has learned from my Dad. He sprawls beside my chair, chirping at me periodically to remind me that he's there. I leaned down to pet his soft fur. Sometimes, he takes this attention willingly. In fact, sometimes he stands up to follow my hand as I remove it to type again.
He shoves under my hand for more attention then. Other times, my caress is rejected with a swat or a bite or maybe a clawing from his hind legs. I never know how my attentions will be received at this hour.
I will often search him out, just to steal some cuddles from him. These stolen moments are sometimes greeted with enthusiasm and other times with disgruntlement. Guess it depends on how deeply he is asleep when I bug him.
When evening rolls around, he comes out to greet my sister. I'm persona non gratis then. He likes to make her think he cares only for her. He commandeers his computer desk, sprawled beside his keyboard and accepting her loving scratches on his head. If she takes the time to type, he demands his attention by laying his head on her hand making it difficult to type and impossible to manipulate the mouse. All attention at that time must be on him.
If dinner smells good to him, he may hover near the table or in the kitchen, hoping for handouts, but this is rare. He isn't a slave to food, unless it happens to be luncheon meat. He'll do just about anything to get that. .
We once more find Tinkerbell laying in the way, tripping us as we walk. If we sit on the couch to chat, we find ourselves objects of scrutiny. He will saunter his way towards the couch, as if to ask for attention, but then he flops by my feet and sprawls on his back and watches me, upside down. If I lean to pet he, he will immediately claw at me, howling his objections. I always tell him not to lay belly up in front of me if he doesn't want me to give him a belly rub. He never listens.
He'll continue to follow us around for the rest of the evening. He never seems to want us to pet him then, but he trails in our wake. When we finally make our way to the bedroom for sleep, he is in the bed ahead of us, waiting for us. He insist on being snuggled then, but he's very particular about it. Only one of us may pet him at a time. Some days he wants Doll's love, other days mine. He's a fickle feline. Before long, he'll settle in for the night, once more curled up beside me. He'll usually start the night towards my feet and at some point in the middle he moves to the pillow by my head.
I will often search him out, just to steal some cuddles from him. These stolen moments are sometimes greeted with enthusiasm and other times with disgruntlement. Guess it depends on how deeply he is asleep when I bug him.
When evening rolls around, he comes out to greet my sister. I'm persona non gratis then. He likes to make her think he cares only for her. He commandeers his computer desk, sprawled beside his keyboard and accepting her loving scratches on his head. If she takes the time to type, he demands his attention by laying his head on her hand making it difficult to type and impossible to manipulate the mouse. All attention at that time must be on him.
If dinner smells good to him, he may hover near the table or in the kitchen, hoping for handouts, but this is rare. He isn't a slave to food, unless it happens to be luncheon meat. He'll do just about anything to get that. .
We once more find Tinkerbell laying in the way, tripping us as we walk. If we sit on the couch to chat, we find ourselves objects of scrutiny. He will saunter his way towards the couch, as if to ask for attention, but then he flops by my feet and sprawls on his back and watches me, upside down. If I lean to pet he, he will immediately claw at me, howling his objections. I always tell him not to lay belly up in front of me if he doesn't want me to give him a belly rub. He never listens.
He'll continue to follow us around for the rest of the evening. He never seems to want us to pet him then, but he trails in our wake. When we finally make our way to the bedroom for sleep, he is in the bed ahead of us, waiting for us. He insist on being snuggled then, but he's very particular about it. Only one of us may pet him at a time. Some days he wants Doll's love, other days mine. He's a fickle feline. Before long, he'll settle in for the night, once more curled up beside me. He'll usually start the night towards my feet and at some point in the middle he moves to the pillow by my head.
I miss u Tinkerbell!!
