Last week, Ernest claimed the chair I consider mine. When I got out, he jumped in. When I wanted to sit down, I had to wrestle him out.  That’s why the photo shows Ernest lying in the chair.

The laptop is in the chair because one night several months ago, when the laptop was sitting on the floor beside the chair, its usual resting place, Ernest chewed through the cable running from the laptop to the fan beneath. The cable was hardwired, so I had to buy a new fan. The next night Ernest chewed through the cable running to the new fan. Fortunately, that cable was replaceable.

Ernest had never shown interest in any of the cables decorating our home, and he’d been peacefully coexisting with the fan cable for two years. I don’t know why he snapped.

I’ve now treated all wires and cables with dishwashing soap.

Anyway, since Ernest’s oral fixation got the best of him, the laptop has spent its nights in the chair, covered by a pillow. William sometimes sleeps on the pillow. On the day I took the photo, Ernest took possession of the chair before the laptop was tucked in.

That’s why Ernest is lying on the laptop.

While we’re on the topic, here’s a picture of the stationary bicycle I bought in January. At Academy. Brand new.

(William, I fear, though he’s neither gnawer nor clawer, may not be entirely innocent in this matter.)

When I discovered the bike’s new look, I wasn’t pleased. I’ve managed to convince myself, however, that function is more important than form. And form can be altered.

I could knit the bike a sweater. And buy Ernest a straightjacket.*


*I can hear readers saying, “What is wrong with this woman? Why does she put up with this?” For three reasons: 1. I love the cats, even Ernest. 2. They’re not generally destructive–don’t tear up carpets, baseboards, cabinet doors, so far haven’t broken any china (although I once came upon William on the verge of pushing the salt shaker off the table, so china isn’t a slam dunk,) and spend most days sleeping and being cute. 3. I don’t want a divorce.

18 thoughts on “Comment

  1. Paraphrasing Roger Caras, cats don’t make our whole lives but make our lives whole. Beautiul boys. Enjoy them =^..^=


  2. Wow, and I thought my cat was bad. Although, does your cat plops his butt on your face while you’re sleeping at night? Mine does and I think he’s trying to tell me something. Maybe yours was a rabbit or a hamster in his previous life…


    1. No, fortunately, neither cat plops his butt on my face. But most nights Ernest walks up beside me, turns around, straddles my forearm, and flops onto his side for a tummy rub. If I don’t comply, he stands on me. I’ve learned to comply.


  3. I love Ernest. I am most taken with his new cable fetish: such feistiness, coming unbidden into a feline life after two peaceful years, reminds me of me acquiring a blogging voice in my forties…the little rascal, as I think Michael Palin said in MOnty Python, has spirit.


    1. I’m glad you acquired that blogging voice, because it gives me much pleasure. I’m afraid all Ernest will get from a cable is 110 volts of alternating current. But, as you say, he has spirit, and those with spirit tend to take risks. And upset their moms.


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