Crazy Cat Lady

Today as I was sitting down to read my book, I politely inquired of Gus whether he would like to be my lap cat for the evening (he did).  As he got comfortable, the variably-named-little-girl cat (no name has stuck so far) jumped up, and I informed her that, while she was welcome to sit on my lap, it was Gus' turn for pats, so she had to wait.  Upon reflecting for a moment that I had just spoken to both of my cats with more civility than I normally afford actual human beings, I realized something.

I am becoming the crazy cat lady.

You know the one.  She's the nice lady who lives down the street, gives out lots of candy on Halloween, doesn't have children (or they're grown), who starts off with a couple of cats she refers to as her children, speaks to them like they actually understand her, talks about them for hours with anyone who will listen, has all sorts of photos of her cats...next thing you know, she's hoarding feral cats, living in a bath robe and slippers, and refusing to answer the door because one of her babies might escape.

While I haven't quite descended that far into madness, I have come to realize that I fulfill a good portion of the criteria:

1. I gave out handfuls of candy at Halloween - we had a lot, and there weren't a lot of kids out that night, I was trying to get rid of it.

2. I have no children...yet...

3. I spend most of my days, not in a bathrobe, but in my sweats and slippers (it's cold here).

4. I have to be very careful answering the door, because the cats are convinced that outside is a veritable Xanadu of wonders and delights, and Gus has already escaped 3 times (just to the porch, but still...)

5. I can talk about the cats for a long time..."They're so cute!  And they love to snuggle!  And they're so funny!  And they hardly ever meow!...."

6. I speak to the cats as though they understand me - "I'm going downstairs now, want to come?" "I could use a lap cat right now, are you interested?" "Please refrain from sticking your claws in my pants, thankyouverymuch" etc, etc.

7. I have a LOT of pictures of my cats.  I doesn't help that my cell phone has a good camera on it, because when I see the cats in a funny position, or looking particularly adorable, I have to document it.  Now, I'm going to share them with you.  Enjoy!

A lap full of cuteness...until they start fighting.

Even the variably named little girl cat knows General Conference is important (this was the first day we had them, too).

I don't understand the fascination with the tub...but they only want to get in right after someones gotten out, and it's all wet...I thought cats hated water?

If they're not at my door, they're at Cathie's.

Preferred perch atop the piano.

They REEEEEEALLY want to go outside...

Okay, the angle stinks here, but Gus is drunk-slumped against the wall, sound asleep.  You'll notice his hind leg is falling off the step.

Aww, sleepy kitties are so CUTE!  Especially when they make little smacking noises like they're nursing!

I don't have a cat, I have a fur rug that occasionally moves of its own volition.

Maybe it's the enclosed space she likes?

I was not the only one concerned about yesterday's snowfall.

I kid you not, this is her preferred holding position.  I try to hold her normally, and she flips upside down and stretches out.  I tuck her up under my arm in a football carry, and she just hangs, totally relaxed, until I put her down.  I don't get it.

It doesn't help that, until I get my citizenship, I have no job, and lots of free time.  I spend a lot of time at home, with the cats.  And they are sweet cats, very personable but quiet - they seriously hardly ever meow at all, highly unusual, and still spend a good deal of time sleeping, which they are happy to do on your lap or feet, if you need a mini heater.  But I'm starting to wonder if all this quality cat time is slowly driving me insane...

Now if you'll excuse me, the variably named little girl cat is requesting some snuggle time.