I’m sitting here right now at the butt crack of dawn with the one and only Voleman on my lap. He’s purring away like it’s nobody’s business as well as “making muffins.” You know, when a cat kneads his claws into your leg? It’s called making muffins. I’m sure someone made that up a long time ago.
Laura’s been sleeping in a different bedroom for the past few nights, taking care of Michael. I mentioned to you earlier that he isn’t in the best way these days. Generally, when one of our cats is ill, Laura will sleep with him to make sure everything runs smoothly throughout the night. It’s sweet and at times, I wish I could measure up to someone like that.
I think Voleman’s got separation anxiety. From the moment I “sort of” fell asleep to the moment I “sort of” woke up, he’s been laying on the floor outside Laura’s bedroom meowing. They aren’t full meows. They’re more like half meows. Kind of like human hums in cat voice. Mmmm. Mmmm. Weird.
We were at the vet again yesterday, picking up some medicine when one of us noticed a large cat poster on the wall. Displayed were all the major breeds of cat, along with their respective pictures and names. Laura thought it would be fun to try to pick out what kind of cat Voleman is. Since he’s a stray, we have no idea.
As I was scanning all the pictures of cats, I suddenly stopped at one called the “Abyssinian,” an especially playful and vocal cat. Yes, vocal. That would explain a lot. Since I started writing this post, Voleman has offered up at least fifteen of those odd Mmmms.
It’s all good. I’ll be a bit tired today, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I mean, who couldn’t love Voleman?