Each morning, after scarfing down breakfast, my sweet but oh-so-stubborn cat Lucie jumps up on the living room table. I originally thought it was mine to use as a dining spot and work space, but now, undaunted by the embroidered linen table cloth (once bereft of hairball stains), she has claimed the territory as her own, turning the table and cloth into a favorite resting place.
Of course, I can easily see why. Besides the soft, enticing scratchability of the cloth, the table’s placement next to wonderfully large urban windows offers an active view of blue skies and the vast outdoors. This includes visits from countless pigeons and butterflies she undoubtedly chases in her dreams.
As part of her morning ritual, the table also becomes the sacred place to lie on as she meows commands at me to brush her. And, lord knows, I have often been tricked into at least trying to do so — again and again. Like today. Continue reading