KING ARTHUR

His name is Arthur, pronounced "R-ture", a sizeable, declawed, yellowish-beige cat. 

I always thought that clawless cats were at a disadvantage when left to roam the wild blue yonder, but Arthur and his cohort, Oreo, a black and white mouser (also clawless), wander the neighbourhood in wild abandon with no negative consequences. 

Arthur and Oreo aren't mine, they belong to a neighbour.  Felines being felines, they really couldn't care less that technically speaking, their home base is next door.  They have a "mi casa su casa" attitude and wait patiently at my entryway to scoot inside at the first opportunity. Once across the threshold, they scrupulously examine every corner, nook, cranny to ensure that there has been no recent invasion of field mice....OR lay at my feet writhing "pet me, pet me"...OR seek out the most comfortable chair in the house for a 10 minute nap.  

It is said that dogs have masters and cats have staff.  A few days ago I was busy painting in my studio and highly focused!  My mind was oblivious to the outside world and actively problem solving; things were really coming together!  

Arthur slipped in when my friend opened the front door.  Did the cat think it wise to request HIS attention? OH NO!  Puss was way too happy to come and disturb me.  As if wound up on a very tight spring, he undertook a frenzied rub against my left leg, then turned over and plopped his entire body weight atop my feet.  After no reaction from me, (I tried to ignore him in the hope that he might take a hint), he used his very hard head as a heat seeking weapon to repeatedly bump my right shin.  It was all I could do to keep myself from falling!

Meanwhile any semblance of fine brush control I had summarily disappeared. I could no longer paint unless Arthur, like Elvis, left the building.  I suggested very gently, and then more forcefully, that he might want to visit the other resident of the abode to fulfil his needs.  But King Arthur had another idea and was quite adamant that I should be the one to make him purrrrrrrrrrr.

I'm a sucker for a pretty face so I stopped what I was doing and yes, pet him for about 10 minutes.  After that, he grabbed the chair I like to sit on in my studio and took a satisfying nap.  I am convinced that Arthur is not just another demanding cat, but rather a frustrated alien artist from outer space determined to sabotage my efforts.  


HA! Take that Arthur!



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