Gather ‘round, dear reader, for I have a tail to tell. I know we usually share cute videos and chucklejokes about cats here, but there is a serious issue to discuss: chronic shoulder cat.
Poe. That fat tuxedo’ed galumph of a cat. He has recently developed a fondness for climbing me like Cary Grant climbed Rushmore in North by Northwest (which if I recall was about Cary Grant’s lifelong dream to climb a mountain while wearing a suit and drinking scotch.) Poe. My roommate’s cat. He’s not even mine! But he is our lovable resident tomcat and I am our lovable resident human (with the strong weight-bearing shoulders of a paper towel salesman).
Poe doesn’t like to be held; he’s a big furry wiggle-pie and trying to hold him is like trying to hold a sack of potatoes, if the sack was filled with cats. But it’s fun to pick him up to annoy him anyway. Recently, instead of wrestling from my warm embrace, he clawed his way up my arms and onto my shoulders, curled behind my neck, and perched. Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Naturally I reached for my iPhone to take an Epic Cat Selfie and win hearts, minds. But this was just the beginning of the trend.
Then this dark cat beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, by the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, decided to prefer shoulder to lap, forevermore.
And he loves it; he’s purring like a live mink. I continued to document it to prove the recurring (more like re-purring, eheheh) nature of this arrangement to doubters (and because I might as well face it I’m addicted to likes).
Earlier this evening Poe the cat literally tried to climb up the leg of my jeans. That’s cute when a kitten does it, but this cat is like fifteen pounds. I didn’t let him.
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore! Because there’s a cat sitting on it.