Such a sweet sight, Esme all curled up, sleeping on my tablet on the worktable an arm’s reach away, keeping me company as I work on inventory for upcoming crafts fairs. My needle slides in and through sparkly beads, weaving counterpoint to the rhythm of her soft snores.
Minutes later Esme’s tail twitches and she begins to wake. She climbs to her feet with luxuriating feline grace and stretches, her back arching in the classic Halloween cat pose that never fails to make me smile.
And then she does one of the thousand things that draw from me the same question.
She begins to sharpen her claws on my brand new tablet cover, the faux antique leather case embossed with the weathered gilt fleur de lis pattern, manufactured in the perfect faded and worn condition so as to be aesthetically pleasing to people who like to pretend they can afford expensive coverings for their bottom of the line electronic paraphernalia. She blissfully injects her talons in alternating fours into the faux leather and rends back the almost convincing outer layer of the cover to expose the cloth base beneath in tiny parallel rents.
“Esme!” I reprimand with enough volume to turn her unblinking eyes towards me as I ask the question yet again. “Why do you insist upon destroying all my favourite things?”
Her topaz eyes meet mine without a trace of guilt. “I do not understand the question.”
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