Okay, let me first set the stage. Me, on the floor in my bedroom, I like the floor. Notebook, on the floor in front of me. Here's where the cat comes in. Emmie walks behind the monitor almost closing it, crosses over the keyboard, turns and goes under my arms, proceeds to travel around my back pressing firmly against me the whole time, then back under my arms and around the monitor. She proceeds to do this several times until I have had enough. I toss her on the bed. She comes back. I shove her away from me. She comes back. I throw her out of the room. She throws a temper tantrum that people could hear in Portland. I let her back in. She comes back. I shove her, toss her, yell at her, and push her down on her belly, (I am gently doing this, no pain involved), to try to get her to leave me alone.
If I were to do that to any of my other cats they would either attack me or leave and be ticked off at me for the rest of the day. Emmie seems to get great pleasure from my abuse.
I know, pick up your computer Leah, take it into the closet, and shut the door. Cat's always win.
If I were to do that to any of my other cats they would either attack me or leave and be ticked off at me for the rest of the day. Emmie seems to get great pleasure from my abuse.
I know, pick up your computer Leah, take it into the closet, and shut the door. Cat's always win.