Posted: June 2, 2010, 3 a.m. EST
There have been times when I’ve wanted to hug Gracie, but she wasn’t into it. How could I tell? As I held her, she’d scream like Aretha Franklin on “Rock Steady.” Then, she’d run up my chest and do a Triple Lindy off my head. The other day, though, it was different. She jumped in my arms and insisted I hold her half the day. It was sweet. But if this happens again, I need to get myself a Snuggly, plus a good explanation if I’m ever photographed in it.
Gracie jumped on me at 11:00 a.m. It was so novel, I enjoyed it. The novelty lasted until 11:15, at which point I beseeched Gracie to “Get down!” I think she took this in a James Brown kind of way and proceeded to dance all over me.
At 1:00 p.m. I decided to make a sandwich. Clearly, it had to be something we could both enjoy. I’ll say this much: The anchovy and peanut butter hoagie will never catch on.
Around 3:00, I took a brief nap. I fell asleep and dreamed I was walking through the jungle. Suddenly, a puma leaped at my face. I awoke, startled. Gracie had her hands on my cheeks. She was smirking.
It went that way until late afternoon. Every time I tried to put the cat gently on the floor, she cried like she was watching “Love Story.” I was thrilled that she liked to be held. But if I didn’t wash soon, I’d be condemned by the Board of Health .
So I went into the bathroom. I turned the shower on. I got out of (most) of my clothes. “Gracie,” I said. “Let go now, or you’re coming in with me.”
Maybe the water scared her. Or made she realized she hadn’t tinkled all day. She leapt off, finally.
I’ll remember her cozy, clinging ways. But she’s always been a very independent cat. And I’ll tell you the truth: It’s nice to have things back to the way they were.
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