the barnacle

When I sit at my computer, Sweetie usually appears from nowhere; she either jumps onto my lap or gets onto the other end of the table, moving toward me, purring more and more loudly. It's hard to get away from her.

Earlier this evening, she did this. I read once that cats don't like wind. So as she approached, I blew in her direction; she stopped where she was and waited in that way animals do because they know we call the shots. This is where I feel guilty. I blow on her and she sits there, purring (because purring is the Most Important Thing she does), and I feel badly for thinking she is a pest. (she is, though)

I often let her on my lap, really. But sometimes she would get in the way, so I blow. It doesn't matter. We will repeat this whole performance tomorrow. And the next day.