Kissing the Lapless

with harriet, it's been hard to know when she really needs something, or if she just really really really needs something that she wasn't getting in her recent past.

she'll meow over and over and over when we come home from work. it's right at the time when you don't even want to talk to your partner. it's a transitionary time. but harriet meows and demands. she demands dinner (easily met with a handful of food) and then she demands a lap. at this time, both guy and i are seated, yes, but usually in some laptop configuration that does not allow room for even the skinniest of kitty cats.

so we'll ignore her. and she'll get really persistant. louder and louder! she's already loud! and, sometimes, we'll yell (because she is deaf, but also because we are impatient people), "Harriet! Not Now!" and she'll reluctantly, through a bit of struggle, settle down on a rug nearby.

other times i am wiser. i feel myself overcome my anxiety, discomfort and apprehension, and i'll pick her up and put her into my lap, even though i'm way up high, on a counter stool, sitting adjacent to the kitchen sink (her old scavenger hunting grounds).

when i do this, she moves around a little, gets a little in my way, but then settles and purrs more than any other part of the day.

i think about how she's been alone all day, and can't really get enjoyment from watching the birds out the window the way clementine used to when she lived inside, because she's mostly blind.

then i think about people and how they are the exact same way.