Yes, the cat ate my blog

She did. Really. She is the cat that curiosity will kill. She must investigate and attack, eat, or play-to-death with anything that takes the human attention away from her. Or anything that moves. Or anything that amuses. Or makes noise. Or anything that just... is.

That's why she ate my blog. Just like she ate my peanut butter sandwich, tomato soup, and the paper towels.

Rowena is mischief incarnate in a cute furry little package. She has to investigate and get into everything. Ribbon? Cat toy. Paper? Cat toy. Bottle cap? Cat toy. Paper clip? Cat toy. Security badge for work? Cat toy. Keys? Cat toy. Jewelry? Cat toy. Plastic bag? Yup... you've got it. Cat toy. Although, in a pinch, it can double as a noisy bed.

Now I can see which of you out there are cat owners. You're smiling, you're even chuckling. "Foolish mortal," you say. "That's what kittens do. She'll grow out of it."

Uh huh. She's six years old. She's not a kitten, she's a full-grown puppy cat.

She really does think she's a dog. After drinking water, she'll shake like a dog. She follows me everywhere around the house, like a dog. She constantly demands attention, like a dog. She's got this ragamuffin, just-came-in-from-playing-in-the-dirt look to her, even though she's an indoor-only cat who is groomed daily. She'll cock her head sideways and give you that soulful, doggy stare of affection. She's even got a kick spot.

It's the puppy cat that made me fall in love with her—like when she gently taps my leg for attention or a lift into my lap; when she rolls onto her back and paws the air in her "I'm too cute!" pose; when she calls me to come play with her; when she hears my alarm go off in the morning, and she tears into the bedroom to jump up on the quilt and snuggle with me for those ten minutes before I'm conscious enough to roll out of bed.

So, I adore her anyway, even through the shredded ribbon and the "stolen" paperclips and the blogs that don't get written because she wants to play with me. Wouldn't you?