I watch my paws moving with ease over keyboard and mouse, typing what turns out to be a huge load of drivel.
Select all. Delete. Sigh!
Here I am, sitting on the desk in my provider’s study. The sun beams through open blind slats and oh, how good the warmth feels! Its siren call lures me: “Cato, Cato…join the rest of the feline world for a nice, long afternoon nap. That will help inspire you to write something worth reading.”
No! I shake my head with determination and do a few stretches. Placing my claws just so on the keyboard again, I continue.
How’s that for an intro? I’ve given you a glimpse into my life as a writer and the challenges that plague me when I sit in front of the computer monitor. Why do it then? Why not just relax and live for the moment, as is the preference of most other cats? All I can say to that is I’ve tried it and it doesn’t suit me.
I am a cat who likes to think and to talk about it in the process. Felines in my neighbourhood will listen for a bit and some share a few observations of their own here and there. Then they become distracted by insects, birds, interesting aromas and the like and off they go, conversation left dangling and myself wondering why I bothered in the first place.
My providers seem to enjoy long discussions with other humans, but cannot seem to get the hang of cat language. To them, “Meow” is just a sound that means, “Feed me” or “Let me outside”. No discussion possible. I’ve resigned myself to the limits of this relationship and have carried on with what my British forbears call “a stiff upper lip.”
And then came the day when my outlook changed altogether. I was keeping female provider (henceforth known as Miranda) company as she fiddled and faddled with her computer. Quite suddenly, the proverbial light bulb lit up my mind and I realized something. She was communicating with others through this machine. Why shouldn’t I do the same? From that day forward, I watched, listened and learned whenever Miranda and male provider (henceforth known as Jacob) used their computers.
It was not easy, but I learned to read human language and then to write it. When my providers were out of the house, I poked and prodded the buttons on the keyboard and discovered that claws work better than paw pads for that. No opposable thumbs needed at all! Next, I focused on manoeuvring the clicker (I refuse to call it a mouse, as it bears no discernible resemblance to that tasty tidbit of the rodent species) and found that the front edge of one paw pad was best for sliding this way and that across the clicker surface. Two paws together serve to shift the clicker itself in a different direction. Most importantly, I figured out how to hide my documents so Miranda won’t see them.
And there you have it. Sooner than I would have thought possible, I was tickety-ticking and scrape-scraping my way into the virtual world. And now – piece de resistance – I have a blog! I would love to share thoughts with all of you out there, whoever and wherever you may be. There is a comment section somewhere on the page, if you would like to communicate too. Until then…”Meow!”
Cats are a mysterious kind of folk. There is more passing in their minds than we are aware of. ~ Sir Walter Scott