Early Morning Jack

Posted Sat Feb 11, 2006 in Family

I’m up early this morning, as is my usual habit. I woke thinking, then rose, intending to get up and write for awhile. Jack, though, had other plans. I reached down to stroke him, once, to let him know I was moving about so as not to startle him. He trilled and rolled over slightly so I could stroke his side.

The temptation was too great, so I spent time stroking Jack’s fur, feeling the softness of his fur against the sturdiness of the underlying body, the litheness of a cat with long muscles and slender bones, listening to him purr and then receiving the head-butts and cat kisses he gives.

He’s quite liberal with head-butts and cat-kisses. Every now and again I meet a tom who is affectionate. I find most cats mildly aloof, not quite trusting humans. Fuzzy, my first tom, was not like that. He preferred my company to wandering around (tom-catting?) and insisted on sleeping with me.

At that time (I was about 14-years old), I went to bed early because I rose early to catch the school bus¹. So, it was normal for me to hit the rack at 2000 or so. My family was still up and about, so I closed my door. If Fuzzy didn’t retire with me, then he would eventually come to the door and caterwaul until someone let him in.

Well, Jack is the same. He wants to be with his people and he desires, and gives, significant affection. So, it isn’t unusual for me to wake in the morning and find him curled up next to me, or between Wife and me, seeking our warmth. He wakes, stirs a bit, and then seeks morning reinforcement of his position in the family.

He rose with me this morning and watched while I dressed, then followed me to the front door. I left him behind while I drove to school to retrieve my forgotten external drives and computer glasses. I sometimes leave them at the office in my haste to leave, or if I’m distracted while packing my kit. I drove to campus, thinking about the difficult events of the week. I entered my office suite, retrieved my drives (and glasses), and turned for home.

The city streets were empty. I listened to a Saint-Sans string quartet on the public radio station. It was a calming piece that helped focus my thoughts. When I arrived home, I walked into the kitchen, turned on the lights, and made coffee. As I turned to head back to my room, Jack sat in his kitchen chair, looking at me. I stepped over to him, talking softly, and stroked his fur. He responded, and we stood there for awhile, until I picked him up and carried him to my chair, where we sat for a few minutes enjoying each other’s company.

I like the curve of his haunches under the palm of my hand. He likes to be stroked. After awhile, he hopped down and wandered off. I turned back to my computer, thinking he’d gone back to bed. But, with a trill, he leapt from the floor onto the crook of my left arm, and promptly fell into my arms, seeking affection. I have white cat hair all over my black sweatshirt. I don’t care.

He sniffed of my coffee, turning up his nose. (He doesn’t know what’s good!) He pressed the space bar on my keyboard, poking around my cluttered desk. He turned back to me again, big green eyes slitted, and headbutted my chin. I laughed softly, and we started another round of affection. He sometimes tucks his head beneath my chin, like a puppy, seeking warmth and comfort there.

He’s gone now as I write. He’s probably back on our bed, sleeping peacefully with Wife. When she wakes, he’ll crawl up on her side and crouch, waiting for her attention.

He has us figured out.

¹ Even then I figured out that if I didn’t get enough sleep I would be tired and suffer the next day. I learned I needed about 10 hours of sleep to feel good. So, that’s what I did — most of the time.