Peppa’s developed a new way to stop anyone getting anything done on the computer. And by anyone I mean me, and by anything I mean ANYTHING. I’m having to write this quickly, having been upstairs to check that she’s asleep.
She’s turned into a monster.
So, on the laptop she used to walk across the keyboard and then settle down. But that, if you look up all the click-bait explanations for 33 reasons cats love laptops, is because of the vibrations and the warmth and because cats are arseholes.
But I have a computer with a wireless keyboard and mouse. As far as I know, they don’t vibrate. And they’re not particularly warm. So what the frick, Peppa?
Obviously, she walks across the keyboard. That’s a given. Most of the time she steps over it, not even giving the keys a second glance, but if she can work out you’re in the middle of something important she’ll stomp all over it like a toddler having a tantrum.
But she’s also taken to lying close by the keyboard and watching everything being done. And then acting on what she sees.
The other day, for example, I couldn’t use the left half of the keyboard – anywhere my left hand would go when typing – because any time my hand moved she would bite it – not in an aggressive way. She thought she was playing. Which she was. Playing awkward buggers.
Last night she curled up around the mouse, so I couldn’t move that without a claw-based reaction.
She’s a monster. And adorable, fluffy monster.
And what’s worse is that if you stop – for example, I stopped typing for a bit while she had the left-hand blockade in place – she’ll reach over with a paw and drag your hand back into the position she wants it in.
It’s all part of her attitude towards us, which is – basically – that she can’t leave us alone for too long. She sits on the couch with me, as I watch TV or game. She’ll curl up against my leg, occasionally rest her head on my knee to see better, and just chill. She’s always come and sat with us both in an evening, but this new solo stalker behaviour is definitely new.
And it’s the same with the computer. She wants in on it. She wants to be part of whatever we are doing. Even if that means just standing on a key until a row of letters fills the screen, followed by other random letters as I try and pull the keyboard out from under her paw.
She’s a blooming mena… wait, I can hear her coming.
I need to end this now.