Friday, May 31, 2013

Happy Birthday, Minetters

Early one morning last week I found Minette upstairs, pretending she's not about to get up to shenanigans, as well as basically pretending the rest of us living in the house don't exist.

In short: the usual.

She's a cat's cat. One of those who allows her people (gah, the dirty beings we are!) to share her space as we are necessary cohabitants because we enable her to function.

In short, she puts up with us because we're her staff.

Definitely a cat's cat.


And here I find her very visibly waiting for me to walk out of the room, because the more still she is, the less likely I'll realize she's contemplating drinking from the pint glass on my nightstand—a habit that drives Mr Lannis bugnuts, and causes him to put a tissue box over his own nightly water source even though we keep the bedroom door closed and cats out when we're sleeping.

Yeah, he's a touch... overzealous about the whole thing...

So here's Minetters, chilling, ignoring me, and yet hyper-aware of the fact that I'll probably clap my hands and make her take off at a sprint, interrupting her plans at any second.

Instead I snap a pic.

Because she's my cat. She's grumpy, and quiet, and anti-social, and clean, and everything you'd expect from a cat—except she's not a fan of being touched, so watch out (she's been known to draw blood from a well-intentioned pat on the head).

And as it's May, somewhere in the last month was her tenth birthday.

Yes, our grumpy girl is ten.

And one day, we won't be shooing her away from our drinks anymore.

Happy birthday, Minette. Enjoy.




(But don't tell Mr Lannis.)


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