myshkin

myshkin

Myshkin is the cat I’ve always wanted. Snuggly and loving, he tolerates being hugged, picked up, and toted around. He sits on my lap. He rarely stops purring. At night, he dashes up to the bedroom to curl up next to us. We usually keep the cats out of our room at night, so I scoop him up and drop him off in the hallway after I’m done getting ready for bed. Then…scratch scratch scratch as he tries to open the door.

As a child, I was quite attached to the family cat, Copycat. When my mom or dad would tuck me in at night, I’d request Copycat be brought to me. She didn’t usually stay curled up on the bed. But after all those years of trying to coerce a cat to curl up beside me, I now have one who insists his rightful place is next to my pillow.

We keep the cats out of our room when we’re sleeping because of the noise. Nutmeg hunts at night and proudly brings us toy mice, meowing loudly as she parades her toys up the stairs. She does this several times throughout the night, often waking me. So out they go.

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