You know how people give you the back of the hand?
Well, this is Trickster’s preferred stance toward me:
Ignore that clawed-up ottoman.
Of course, sometimes giving me the back is simply a second effect to much larger (and known-only-to-her) purpose.
There is nothing on the other side of that door except floor and more doors. Doesn’t end her fascination, though.
No, I don’t usually have extra bags of cat food sitting around, but there was a sale!
She can’t even face me when she’s sitting in my lap.
And when she’s had enough of that, she slithers on to the desk and comports herself just so:
Yes, I am clearly the center of her existence.
AbsurdBeats 