Black cat appreciation day, was it? Well, I do pay homage to my pretty black girls daily, but I'm happy to comment on it today. It has always baffled me that black cats ever got a bad reputation. They are so pretty, and if you have any good sense, you can form a lasting friendship with them. I'd say they are always sweet, but for every giant cuddly bear like my Jackie, there is a spicy, easily over-stimulated crankybutt like Athena. She takes a whole lot of patience and understanding, but once you meet her on her terms (and her terms only), she is a darling. She's curled up next to me now, where she always is at night, close enough that my hand brushes against the tips of her fur as I type, but doesn't actually touch her skin. We have Tinky Cuddle Time every morning, and after she watches me go to the bathroom (I suppose she thinks I might do it wrong if she doesn't supervise?), she leaves me the heck alone until the next cuddle time rolls around. If anyone else tries to pet her or, God forbid, pick her up, it's band-aid time.
I gave them special treats in the manner that they enjoy. It was laundry day, so Athena got to get in the way while I put fresh sheets on the bed. Jackie lay on the floor beneath the dryer as I pulled out the freshly-washed set, getting high on the intoxicating smell of laundry soap. You do what your cats like. Me, I know what these girls dig most.
I tried so hard to get a photo of Jackie, since she hardly ever gets featured. She jumped up on the foot of my recliner, and looked everywhere but at the camera. She moved in every single shot. The camera suggested night mode, and that didn't help a bit. So here is every photo that I got. The phone refused to click the shutter half the times I tried.
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