[ Loiosh, an orange tabby, is standing right in front of me, staring straight into the camera, one forepaw on the chair I’m sitting in, the other raised to rest on my belly. ]
Sometimes, especially when I’m downstairs trying to work, Loiosh decides that it’s time for a Love Emergency.
This was one of those times.
I was TRYING to make soap.
[ Loiosh has looked away and backed off a tiny bit; that forepaw is now in my lap, and his expression is thoughtful. ]
I needed to make the soap, I explained to him, because soap was what we sell so that we can afford to buy him cat food.
Surely, he replied, I could make the soap at times when he was not having a Love Emergency.
There are, I told him, actually not as many of those times as he might think there are. Also, I need to make soap while the sun’s out, because that’s when we have power to run the things.
He considered this.
[ Loiosh’s paw is up on my belly again, and his expression is intent, whiskers perked forwards. ]
Nope, he replied. Not acceptable. When there is a Love Emergency, there will be no Making of Soap.
& so I set aside the soap, put down the camera, & resigned myself to my fate for the next half hour.
