It's Spreading

Maybe stress is in the atmosphere? For the past few weeks, my cat Fanny seems to be sharing my stress levels. (She's not otherwise sick or anything, so I think she's just weirded out by me.)

Whenever I go into the kitchen and she's already in there, she'll turn and look at me. And then her tail poofs out to astronomic proportions. She doesn't hiss or seem otherwise upset. In fact, she'll rub my legs. It's as though she's saying, "You're freaked. That freaks me. Whoosh!"

Yesterday she came in the library where I was working on my ginormous paper about Adam Smith and the subversion of nature (how on earth did I manage to pick a topic that was the prof's specialty??). She jumped up on the window sill, turned and looked at me and puked.

She has taken to jumping up on me when I'm sitting down or laying somewhere, letting out what can only be described as a cat war whoop, and then kneading my stomach with her paws for all she's worth. Maybe she's trying to beat the stress out of me.

Apparently yesterday was just to much for kitty. She is normally a very sweet cat, not aggressive, very active. She loves on everyone who comes over. I was walking down the hall from the library to the living room, and she comes flying around the corner and lunges at me--all seven pounds of hell and fury--and wraps around my leg and simply put, tries to take me out. That's the only way it can be explained. She looked like a tiger coming to take down prey. Only in toy form.

I guess she figured she'd had enough, and it was either me or her. I understand completely, kitty.

-- Virgil