Buttons and threads, felines and fables.

Buttons is my most constant writing companion. She is a perfect partner for a story writer, in that she can’t talk, so her distractions are limited to sitting on the keyboard and digging her claws into me when she’s trying to get comfortable on my lap.

Buttons doesn’t mind when I mutter to myself about plot threads and character back stories. In fact she knows these are often the best times she can get a head scratch, while I scratch my own!

On sunny mornings, Buttons will stretch out in the sun beside me. If I make eye contact, she will meow, as if to tell me to stop day dreaming and get back to work. But she isn’t really bothered if I don’t do as she says. And she never tells anyone when I spend far too long on Pinterest in the name of research.

I like to think Buttons doesn’t mind when I read aloud to her, and ask her for suggestions. What do you think Buttons, will we call him Ingelbert? No? She will purr sometimes. Other times she with give me a withering look, reminding me that she is far superior and more enlightened than I can ever hope to be.

Except in storms. Buttons really isn’t a fan of wind, which is quite a phobia to have when you’re a Welly cat. Those days writing is stilted, often one handed, while patting and soothing and promising that it’s just the wind, and that the sticks dancing across the deck are not zombie sticks, coming to get her.

Buttons is quite a high maintenance feline. She will not use the cat flap, due to it’s placement on the side of the house where the big scary white cat from next door seems to have claimed territory. She will play cat flap tag through the cat flap, but chooses to use the planter boxes on the deck for a toilet, which is both annoying and stinky.

Buttons also has very particular tastes in meat. She has developed a liking for the fancy feast broth, proving once again her superiority in the house. No run of the mill jelly meat for this lady. She likes her’s food to have some flare.

Buttons is capricious, especially around the time she expects us to go to bed. She will spring up from a slumber, eyes like saucers, overcome with an urge to dance, prance and practice for the Cat-Olympics. Long jump, Diving, Rhythmic gymnastics. At these times, it is best to keep your toes still under the blanket.

In the mornings when she wakes, Buttons does not like to be ignored, preferring to alternate between attempting to drink from our water glasses beside the bed, and sitting on someone’s chest until they can’t breath. Then she will try and cajole you into giving her another fancy feast and likes to be let out in a huff when biscuits are offered instead.

At other times of the day, you will find Buttons at the window in Isabelle’s room, waiting for the children to come home from school, or curled up on the Sky box when she wants an extra burst of heat.

Buttons especially likes butter, crunchy wetas and scratching the side of the couch. Grrrr.

How do your furry friends help you in your every day life? 

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Have you read Making Over Mabel yet? 

Tagged: cats, pets, writing