Sherlock

“A regular meeting of the Culpeper Amateur Radio Association was called to order,” I typed, then stopped, interrupted by a soft, black paw brushing my right leg, distracting me from typing the minutes for the monthly meeting of my ham radio club. Glancing down to see two deep green eyes looking up at me, I pushed my chair back a few inches from the desk, and Sherlock silently hopped onto my lap, purring like a well tuned Ferrari.

She walked back and forth, leg to leg, trying to get settled. Finally, she stopped. “Cross your legs, Gary. Your lap isn't big enough. I need to stretch out while I look at the screen.” Sherlock was like that. She needed to get her footing, then settle down. “Can't you see that I'm busy, Sherlock?” “I know, but I want to watch the screen, and I can't do it if I have to keep walking back and forth to keep my balance.” “OK, but I'm gonna have to uncross them in a little while. You know if Emily comes by she'll be jealous. You'll probably have to leave.” Sherlock was silent. Her sleek, black figure was stretched out on my lap, her eyes fixed on the computer screen, oblivious to my complaint. Occasionally she rubbed her head on my arm in affection as she purred away.

“Play the video. Please play the video.” She raised her head, and began rubbing it on my hand while I tried to type. “The one with the squirrel. Please.” Yes, this cat talks to me, but only when we're alone together. “Sherlock, if I do that, I won't be able to finish these minutes.” “But Gary, you have two screens. Please play the video.”

I opened a new browser window, selected the cat video bookmark, and waited. We both sat through the youTube commercial before the video began. On the screen a squirrel began dashing to a stump to grab a nut, then dashing off the screen in a squirrly manner.

“Please put it on the other screen, Gary.” “But Sherlock, I need to type my document on that screen. It's the one in front of my face.” “Pleeaase?” Grasping the window with my work in it, I pulled it all the way over to the left monitor, and slid the window with the video to the screen directly in front of my face. A black paw snaked over the keyboard to touch the squirrel as it continued to moved around the screen. “Sherlock, I can't work if your leg is covering the keyboard.” There was silence as she continued to rub her paw over the monitor.

Several minutes of quality video time passed in silence. Miss Emily, The Mighty Huntress, tip toed up to my leg. Seeing the black form on my lap, she put her front paws on my thigh, and look into my eyes. I scratched her behind the neck for a moment, but she hopped back down on the rug. Then she hopped back up, that look in her eyes. I uncrossed my legs. “Sorry Sherlock, Miss Emily wants to go out.” “Oh Gary. You'd do anything for her. But for me...” There was a mildly offended tone in her soft, feline voice as she hopped off my lap, raised her tail, and padded away.