There’s something about cats and computers. When you sit at your desk, your cat sees an opportunity to garner some undivided attention, plus there’s the added warmth (or perhaps static cling?) of the position next to the monitor.

So you’re typing away, probably working on something really important. A deadline. A manifesto. And you need both hands to really get value out of the touch-typing lessons Mr Baxter foisted on you in middle school. Plus, you need to access the mouse — and its cord (if your technology is stuck in the 90s).

But your cat — does he care? He climbs up, proprietorially walks over the keyboard (adding curses into your carefully-crafted sermon), and positions himself where he can purr smugly as you attempt to work around him.

The thing is, you like your cat. And because he’s finally deigned to offer his affection to you, you don’t really want to shove him away. You do want to pet him and keep him close. But not on the keyboard! Plus, your wrist is no match for the cat’s well-fed bottom pinning the cord down. So you can’t even browse the web properly as you scratch the cat’s chin with your left hand.

Some people keep cats. But I keep small children instead. The two are quite similar, especially when it comes to climbing up and hogging the computer space in search of some attention. The big difference is that small children don’t purr.

Calista, 21 months old, January 2010
Calista was very-excitedly pointing to a dog in the book.