If youâ€™ve ever owned a cat, or spent any time around one, you already know how they love to curl up on the newspaper you have spread out in front of you.
If youâ€™re reading it on the floor, theyâ€™ll sidle up under your chin, make a few passes to get your attention, then lie down on the newspaper and begin to purr. If youâ€™re reading at the table, they still jump up and flaunt their same dance in front of you.
Much like a toddler, they believe they are the center of your world, that the sun rises and sets for your adoration of their existence, that nothing could possibly be more interesting or more beautiful than they are. Itâ€™s as if they are proclaiming the newspaper has no significance apart from their connection with it.
When I am working in the garden, Ruthie is like a cat.
Today as I sat on the ground pulling weeds around me, Ruthie plopped into my lap, right under my chin. She felt she was helping me weed, when in actuality I couldnâ€™t see what I was doing because her cute blond head was in my way.
Surprisingly, I was rather good natured about it. Iâ€™ve been trying to overcome my impatience and perfectionism for the sake of raising a daughter who still speaks to me when sheâ€™s old enough to realize she doesnâ€™t really have to anymore. In this attempt, what Iâ€™ve realized is that Ruthie will jump in to â€œhelpâ€ me accomplish my task, but quickly lose interest and move on to something else.
She has learned, along with the rest of us, that chores can be rather boring and monotonous.
As for her other catlike qualities, Ruthie is an excellent snuggler.