Oh, so cute!
Marley is cat.
He is named after Bob Marley.
Ok, at least that I didn’t know.
But yes, he can definitely be cute at times. Just as he can be a pest many other times.
Marley is my roommate’s cat. He is about 3 years old, slightly chubby—to be honest, he is quite fat, but Marley cannot read between em dashes, so I’m safe—and is the second cat that I’ve grown to like throughout my life.
I am not much of a cat person, and the first cat I enjoyed spending quality time with—we would clutch for minutes on end in an abrazo—was Serena. Serena was the first cat I ever had. She was with me throughout my childhood and passed away sometime in my double-digit-hood.
I have had several others cats since then, but I was never ultra-fond of them—sorry mum, Nala does fall in this category. And before you ask, no, I did not hate them; I simply felt neutral feelings towards them. However, I’ve grown to enjoy Marley’s presence—at times.
He has the tendency to jump on the table and countertops several times a day, if not several times an hour at least. Especially when he is hungry, which he tends to be almost incessantly—did I mention he could lose a few belly pounds? He loves to jump up on the table in the middle of a heated board game and make several pieces go flying helter-skelter. Although sometimes I wonder if he is just trying to make a well thought out strategic move…
You might be wondering “Maybe you should have titled this post ‘Meet Marley: The Cat’, because I have not read anything about burning?”.
Do not fret; heat is on the way!
On average, I cook two to three meals a day. For the vast majority of these I have the utmost faithful companion Marley, aiding in his varying feline ways: picking up my mushrooms and throwing them on the ground, bitting and tearing ravenously a ziploc with fish in it, clawing—ever so carefully, because he does have a gentle soul deep down—at my arm while I cook and then gently grasping it between his two paws to lick my forearm intensely, and the list goes on.
He also loves to jump on the stove—and, let me tell you, he does not care if the stovetop is on or off. Every time I am awestruck: he never jumps on the heated ring. He has a 100% success rate of being a ninja.
In all seriousness, to my knowledge, he has not burned himself in the past 10 months of us living together. Or maybe he is simply an extraterrestrial creature sent from the other side of the galaxy and he is equipped with heat-absorbing paws, among possibly many other clandestine abilities—such as some good adipose tissue storing capacities.
Marley, please tell me if you are. Everything will be much easier that way.
I am always amazed at how he jumps on the correct side of the stovetop and without fail avoids the heated plate. I am always scared when I see he in mid-leap that he will land on it and let out a screech. But, as I said, he nimbly dodges it each time.
Does your cat have a tendency to jump onto the stove? Or do anything else that is dangerous but manages to avoid danger in an almost magical fashion?
Paw-notes: miaow, purrrr, hisssss purrrrrr—also known as onomatopoeais.