Living with a cat is a lot like living with a tiny philosopher who believes the universe revolves around two things: curiosity and timing. Not your timing, of course. Their timing. Whiskey Kitty has made that principle perfectly clear.
Like most cats, Whiskey only wants attention when she decides it’s time. If I pick her up during one of her “independent hunter” moods, she slips away like a shadow that suddenly remembered it has other plans. But the moment I sit down to do something important, especially something involving electronics, she appears as though summoned by an invisible signal from the Wi-Fi router.
At first it was my iPhone.
Early on, whenever I pulled it out, Whiskey would walk right over and bump my hand aside with the confidence of a tiny union worker protesting unsafe labor conditions. Then she would lift her paw and tap the screen, mimicking exactly what I was doing. It honestly looked like she was trying to operate the phone herself. I half expected her to unlock it and start ordering catnip on Amazon.
Then came the MacBook.
Whiskey has developed a very clever strategy for dealing with computers. She waits patiently until I’m fully engaged in typing. The moment I’m focused and trying to get work done, she sneaks over and crawls between my legs while I’m sitting on the couch. In her mind she’s hiding, like a stealth panther in tall grass.
But the problem with hiding under a laptop is that the laptop sits on top of a human being who can clearly see everything happening underneath.
While she believes she’s invisible, a small paw slowly reaches up from beneath the computer like a furry submarine periscope. That paw then attempts to knock my thumb away from the the track pad and the keyboard.
Tap.
Tap.
Swipe.
The result is that my typing becomes increasingly difficult as I attempt to finish a sentence while defending the keyboard from a determined feline engineer.
At this point I’m convinced Whiskey believes the computer is a device that steals human attention, and therefore must be sabotaged.
And she’s not alone. Cats everywhere seem to have the same mysterious instinct. The moment a human opens a laptop, reads a book, or tries to focus on something, a cat appears like a fuzzy administrative assistant whose sole job is to interrupt the meeting.
There are actually a few reasons for this.
First, the computer has your full attention. From a cat’s point of view, that means the computer has become the most interesting object in the room. And cats are experts at inserting themselves into the most interesting place available.
Second, laptops are warm. Computers generate heat, and cats are professional heat-seekers. If there were a degree in “Thermal Comfort Studies,” every cat would graduate with honors.
Third, cats learn patterns incredibly well. Whiskey knows that when I sit down with the MacBook, I stay there for a while. That means it’s the perfect time to come over and settle in, because she knows exactly where I’ll be.
And finally, there’s a little bit of playful rebellion involved. Cats are independent creatures. They don’t want attention on command. They want attention when they decide it’s time.
In other words, if I approach Whiskey for affection while she’s busy doing mysterious cat business, she disappears. But if I’m typing an important sentence, suddenly a paw emerges from beneath the laptop like a tiny furry hacker trying to shut down the system.
The whole thing feels less like pet ownership and more like co-habitating with a mischievous coworker.
Still, I have to admit something.
For all the interruptions, the bumped thumbs, and the keyboard sabotage, Whiskey Kitty has perfect timing in her own strange way. Just when the work becomes frustrating or the day gets a little too serious, a little paw appears from under the computer reminding me that there are more important things than finishing the paragraph.
Namely, scratching a cat behind the ears.
And according to Whiskey Kitty, that task should begin immediately. 🐾💻
meow!
by Dan and Bonkers
SUPPORT MENTAL HEALTH AWARENESS TODAY!!!
