I ran the duster over the coffee table, enjoying the way it revealed the shiny wood surface. It had been a while since I had actually dusted and it showed. That was when I noticed Freddie curled up asleep on one of the chairs. “Freddie!” I cried, and jogged over to him to pet him.
He did not look up, but his tail gave a discontented thump against the chair.
You know how this works, but as always, a gentle reminder:
Pooties are cats; Woozles are dogs. Goggies are dogs, too, and moggies are cats. Birds...are birds! Peeps are people. PWB Peeps are Pooties, Woozle, Birds People. No trolling the diary.
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I petted him, crooning happy nonsense. His tail thumped harder.
“Are you a good boy?” I asked, petting. “You look like a good boy. Are you? Are you such a good boy?”
He rolled over and I squeaked in delight, my fingers immediately going to his floofy belly. He opened his eyes and then curled up and bit me.
“Hey!” I said, indignant. “I was just petting you!”
“I’m sleeping!” he huffed. “Leave me alone!
“Fine!” I said. “I won’t pet you anymore!”
“Good!” he said, then rolled back over and closed his eyes.
I stomped away.
Sometime later, I was in the kitchen disinfecting all the surfaces when Freddie meandered in. He sniffed at his bowl of kibble and seemed to decide against eating any of it. He walked to the center of the floor and sat, yawning.
“Oh, you’re awake now?” I asked.
“Yep,” he said, and started to clean his face.
I went back to my work. When I finished with the counter I turned to clean the refrigerator door and nearly tripped over him. “Watch it!” he said.
“Sorry!” I said, then thought better of it. “Do you have to sit right in the middle of the kitchen floor?” I asked. “You can see me in here cleaning.”
He frowned. “You aren’t normally home right now,” he pointed out.
“So?”
“So, this is my time in the house. You shouldn’t be here.”
“We talked about this,” I said.
He squinted up at me. “We did?”
“Yes! I’m home more because I have to be. You were happy about it!”
“Sometimes I am!” he said. “But right now you are interfering with my alone time and I don’t like it.”
I snorted at him and turned to the refrigerator. I started scrubbing. When I turned back around he was gone.
Finished in the kitchen, finally, I went into the family room and plopped down on the couch, satisfied with how clean everything was. I leaned back and thought about what I should do next. The day was only half over and I was out of idea. I eyed my knitting project and considered it.
A quiet harrumph came from the other side of the couch. I turned my head and saw that Freddie had curled up on the furry blanket. “What?” I asked.
“Why are you here?” he demanded. “Don’t you go to work?”
I sighed. “We talked about this less than an hour ago,” I said.
“You said you were home more, but you didn’t say you weren’t going to work!”
I rubbed my face, then quickly stopped myself. “They cut my hours,” I explained. “I’m home more now.”
“You should go back,” he grumbled.
I leaned over and rubbed his back. He immediately shook me off. “Leave me alone!” he yelled, and jumped off the couch.
“That was rude!” I called after him as he ran out of the room.
I didn’t see him for several hours. I assumed he was in the laundry room or maybe he had gone into my bedroom. I didn’t go looking for him, deciding to give him some space.
Also I didn’t want to get off the couch.
I turned on the new season of Nailed It! on Netflix and vegged out for a while. I was proud of what I had already accomplished and figured I could indulge myself a little. I put my feet up and relaxed.
I wasn’t bothered at all by my cat’s rejection, I reminded myself.
Eventually Freddie wandered in, blinking sleep out of his eyes. He saw me and made his way over, jumping up to curl up on my lap. “Really?” I asked, but started petting him anyway.
He yawned and stretched a little, seemingly content with my attention. “We’re friends again, eh?” I asked.
“We were never not friends,” he explained. “But now is the time you are normally home.”
I looked up at the clock. “Huh,” I said, surprised. “I lost track of time.”
“You should keep petting me,” he said.
I made a face at him. “Maybe I don’t want to,” I said, petting him.
“You want to,” he said, his eyes closed.
I sighed. “You really don’t want me here?” I asked.
He looked up at me. “I want you here,” he told me. “I just need some time to myself when you leave me alone and then give me instant attention but only when I want it.”
I shook my head. “What about when I want your attention?”
“You can have it!” he said earnestly. “But only when I’m ready to give it to you.”
He cuddled down into my lap. “You may pet me now,” he said, closing his eyes once more.
“Yes, sir,” I said, and obeyed him.
Happy Caturday, Peeps! Remember: your pootie is accustomed to a certain amount of alone time and they fully expect us to respect that.