Magical cats

Recently, I’ve been wanting a cat. This is not new — I always want a cat, or three. It’s shocking, really, that I haven’t buckled and adopted one after more than two and a half years in Austin. (Of course, my apartment-mate B. got a kitten five months before she got her master’s and left, and R. has a wonderful, insane, hefty tabby, and then there were the three feral kittens I rescued and fostered while sharing a house with R.; but none of them were mine.) I stop and pet them whenever I can, and T. says, half-jokingly, that my superpower is seeing cats. I find them everywhere.

This is not the time to get a pet. We’re planning to move again this summer, and I may have to go to Oregon for a while at some point to help out, and who knows what emigrations may come, post-doctorate? Nonetheless: I want a cat.

So it was surprising, and pleasant, that the sweet silent little black cat who lives in the apartment across the parking lot — this is west campus; there is no other way to express proximal distance between buildings — decided to break into our apartment yesterday. She’s been friendly before, and it was cold out, but not that cold. I think she was just curious — and when the landlord showed up with the plumber to fix our hot water (sigh), she ran up the stairs ahead of them and bolted right in. I let her do that curious low creeping walk around the apartment for a little while, then took her out to the landing and held her on my lap. She purred a little, and twitched her tail, and it’s silly how happy I was then, sitting on our stairs with a borrowed cat on my lap, cold, thinking about nothing.


  1. What? Have you forgotten that you already have a cat? Namely, me…. Yes, I know, I’m in Oregon and you’re in Austin. Sigh. But you say you are moving? Possibly to a larger apartment? Would you have room for me there? (I should add that I prefer not to fly, so you will have to buy a car and drive me to your new apartment. I am a marvelous traveler in the car.) And I will happily purr for you, just like that obnoxious little black thing. harumph.


  2. Aha. You saw right through my cleverly disguised comment. Yes, she does have mascot duties to perform and is proving to be a real trouper. Who knew that she had it in her? I’ve just taken some photos, which I’ll put up on my flickr page this afternoon. As you gaze at them, imagine the purrs….

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