Cat in My Lap

It's late at night. I'm sitting at my computer, and the only one awake. All at once, a streak of yellow fur lands on my lap. It feels like a scene from a Steven King novel.

It was Jagger, my daughter's large-sized elusive cat. He has ignored me since I arrived at my daughter's house a couple of weeks ago. That is with one exception. When it's time for him to eat - and no other family member is around - he rubs up against my legs. I get the message. But as soon as I put his plate on the floor, he's back to ignoring me again.

Except on this night. Jagger the pouncer, turns on his motor. Loudly! My adrenaline is only beginning to diminish when I snapped this selfie of the contented tabby draped across my legs.

I smile and go back to typing. He rolls over on his back, and paws at my elbow while I'm typing. He's still purring. I think this is a sign of friendship. He's accepting me as part of the family. We're buddies. Right? Wrong.

 I forgot how different cats are from dogs. I'm more of a dog person.

Jagger sits up. I want to be friends and wonder if he's interested in what I'm doing. Silly thought.

In a fraction of a serene second he's off my lap, and leaping into a paper bag.

 “Hey! What are you doing?” I ask peering into the bag. I thought we were friends. He only looks at me with big cat eyes and dares me to  pry him out of his containment. I decide to leave him alone.

Alfred North Whitehead said, If a dog jumps into your lap, it is because he is fond of you; but if a cat does the same thing, it is because your lap is warmer.

I'm beginning to believe it.