I was sprawled out on my back on my mattress, reading my eBook, winding down for a nice, summer sleep. I felt the bed jiggle a bit as Freddie jumped up to join me.
“Hey, little guy,” I said, not looking away from the words on the screen.
He didn’t speak, but climbed up on my chest and stomach to aggressively mark my eReader with his face. I nearly dropped it onto my face, he hit it so hard.
“Cut it out,” I said with no heat. “It’s mine, not yours.”
He paused and peeked at me from around the side of the device. “Everything is mine,” he said simply, then went back to what he was doing.
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After the fifth time I almost dropped my eReader on my face, Freddie was finally satisfied with the scent. He settled down with his face a few inches from mine. I had to shift the book a bit to accommodate him, but that was ok. I’m always happy whenever he wants a cuddle.
With my free hand, I started to rub his back. I really dug into the spot just between his shoulder blades where he really likes it. He started to purr.
“You really should pet me with both hands,” he reminded me. “I’m sitting in reach of both.”
“I’m reading,” I said. “I need the other hand to hold my book.”
He gave a mildly indignant huff, but seemed to accept that.
It was then that I started feeling his claws dig in and out of the skin of my belly.
“Freddie,” I said. “That hurts.”
He didn’t stop. “Feels pretty good to me,” he said.
I was wearing a light weight tank top in deference to the heat, and it wasn’t doing much to protect my skin from his claws.
“Freddie,” I said again, this time moving the book so I could look at him. “I need you to stop now.”
He blinked slowly at me, in a daze of pleasure. “I will,” he said, not even slowing down.
With my free hand, I gently cupped the paw that was doing the most damage, separating it from my skin. “Let’s put the murder mittens away,” I said.
He pulled his paw from my hand and laid it back down, this time a little to the left of where it had been. The kneading began again.
“Freddie!” I said, louder this time.
He seemed to take that as a sign to dig in harder.
“Freddie, stop!” I set my eReader down and picked up both paws this time. He seemed to snap out of his fugue.
“What?!” he grumped.
“That. Hurts,” I enunciated carefully.
He blinked at me. “No, it doesn’t,” he said.
I just stared at him.
“It doesn’t hurt,” he repeated. “Desi did it to me and I did it to her. Me and my littermates did it to each other. It feels nice.”
“I don’t have fur,” I explained.
“I know,” he said, nonplussed.
“So it hurts when you dig your claws into my sad, human skin!”
He seemed to think about it.
“Ok,” he said slowly, his claws gently expanding and retracting into the skin of my palms. “But,” he continued, “it feels really good when I do it to you. Like being so relaxed and happy. Don’t you want me to feel that way?”
“Of course!” I said, quickly. “But maybe you could do it to something other than my vulnerable skin?”
He pulled his paws from my grasp and tucked them under his body. Everything about him said he was thinking over my words.
“I could do it to something else – “
“Thank you!”
“But I don’t want to.”
With that, he untucked his paws and went back to making biscuits.
“Dammit!” I exclaimed.
I let him carry on for a minute. “You know,” I said, “it’s hot tonight.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, too blissed out to really hear me.
“And you laying on me like this is just making me sweat.”
“Ok,” he said absently.
I stuck my open palm in his face and moved it toward him, causing him to back off my body. He tore his claws out of my skin non too gently.
“Ow!” I said.
He glared at me. “You didn’t have to do that!” he said.
“Yes I did!” I shot back. “You were hurting me and making me sweat and I didn’t like either one!”
His tail was swishing around so hard I thought he might take off like a helicopter. “I was cuddling!”
I lifted my top to show him my reddened skin. “Look!” I said, pointing angrily.
He swiveled his head to look, then back, eyes meeting mine again. “You aren’t even bleeding!” he shouted.
“That’s the line?!”
“You get hurt worse than that when we’re playing I don’t understand why this is such a big deal!”
We glared at each other.
I reached over and picked up a throw cushion. I plopped it in front of him. He reared back, a little startled.
“Use this if you need to knead something,” I told him.
He opened his mouth to complain, then shut it again. Gingerly, he leaned forward and sniffed it. “Smells like you,” he commented.
“I lay on it sometimes,” I agreed.
He carefully climbed on top of it and settled down. A minute later he was kneading away on the heavy fabric.
I reached out and started petting him again.
It wasn’t too long before he began to purr again, tail finally resting against the mattress.
I picked my eReader back up and turned it back on.
And peace settled across the land once more.
Happy Caturday, Peeps! Pooties love making biscuits, but ouch! Freddie doesn’t seem to understand that it doesn’t tickle so much as hurt. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. Anyway, I hope your pooties all have a better sense of the vulnerability of human flesh!