A Man and His Cat

Midnight (my cat) has been with me since 1990. She's been with me during my long hair days, during deaths in the family, during my ruptured Achilles tendon recovery, during 15 Thanksgivings, and Christmases, and birthdays. The bond we have is quite amazing. She can read me so well—she knows when I'm about to leave before I ever pick up my keys or slip on my coat. She starts to meow and then jumps on the futon for a friendly fight—after which I raise her paw in victory. That's right. She's undefeated.

She usually beats me to bed at night. I'll pick her up, pet her for a couple of minutes, and then set her down before climbing into bed. She gives me a couple of minutes to get comfortable, and then she jumps back on the bed. I sleep on my stomach and for years, she's expected me to part my legs enough so that she can fit in between them. So she sleeps on top of the covers and boroughs her way down for the night.

In the morning, she follows me into the bathroom and before I jump into the shower, she exits and heads back to bed. When I fire up the coffee pot after my shower, she wanders in and sits patiently by her food bowl. I fill it up and she chows down. Then, I head to my home office and she heads back to bed again where she stays most of the morning.

After I've eaten lunch, I usually read for an hour. She pokes her head out from the covers (she can see my sitting in my recliner from the bed) and then she stretches, hops off the bed and into my lap—where again, she expects me to have my legs far enough apart for her to curl up. She doesn't even move while I'm reading, but somehow she senses the moment I finish and even before I put the book down, she gives a modified meow (kind of a shorter version than normal with a little purr thrown in) and that's when she expects me to put the recliner back so she can crawl up on me and get some extra attention. Of course, I'm glad to do it.

As soon as we're finished, she's heads back to bed until about 4:30 pm. That's when she starts poking her head into my office wondering when I'm going to be done for the day. If I work too late for her liking, she jumps on my desk and starts rubbing against my shoulders and then she actually gets in between me and the computer. Some days, when deadlines are looming, I'll pet her for a few minutes, and then explain that I'm going to be working for a while longer. She jumps down and waits in my recliner until I come out of the office.

And so it goes. We have this whole routine worked out and we work together without ever thinking about it. The average outsider would either find it adorable or crazy. I just find it part of my normal routine, and I like it.