And with fuzzy ears, I see.

It's winter now, the trees are naked, and the cold has hit hard. Today happened to be a particularly dull day, one of those days where lunch, even just a bare salad, was the most interesting part of the entire day. Unfortunately work was approaching quickly, and to add to that I was already mildly stressed over my girlfriend's womanly indecisiveness and subtle bitchiness. Something else you should know is that I am not a cat person, by that I mean I don't really like cats. I don't have a grudge or fear of them, they're just static to me. They live and I live and we live quite disconnected from each other.
I have two cats though, one grey with slight patches of a dark orange and one white with grey and orange patches. Obviously these are of the same litter, or whatever you call cat siblings. Well anyway, the grey cat was inside. We call her Merlot, like the wine. Naming cats is pretty much pointless, kind of like naming a fish, they don't care about the name or even respond to it. I am really not a cat person at all; we just don't mix very well.
I have a girlfriend, as before mentioned. We're not really too emotionally attached either, if we're together it's mostly silent and physically affectionate. Time and kisses basically win my heart no matter who it is. I guess I can fall for anyone I want to. Flexible is the word I would use, maybe even adaptive.
Today, however, I was sitting in my round swivel chair. It sits on the back left corner of the den, or living room, or whatever you call it. I sat in the chair today, beside Merlot, that damn cat actually moved her fat self over to give me some room. I watched the television for a few minutes, glancing over at the fuzz ball beside me. Merlot looked up and made occasional eye contact, then closed her eyes and cat napped.
I feel obliged to pet nearby animals, like they expect such affection or something. So I rubbed his fuzzy head, scratched her neck and stroked her back. Petting is the routine, a cat knows that when someone sits beside them then they're going to get petted. Someone should stop doing that. I'm actually slightly allergic to cats so I didn't pet her very long.
I repeated this series of interval petting for a few sets. When I stopped, Merlot would perk up, look at me and then move closer, licking my hand or at least finding where I placed them. She moved closer, and I would pet her. I am not sure why I continued doing this so long, I could feel mucous clogging my nose.
I rubbed the short furs on her head, stopped. I crossed my legs and tucked my hand between my thighs. It's winter after all and my hands can't stand the cold too long either. Merlot followed my hand and licked at the exposed wrist. I left my hand tucked despite her begging. She proceeded to nuzzle my arm and thigh with the top of her head. I reluctantly petted her head again, scratching her neck and cheeks as well. She closed her eyes and extended her neck so I kept petting. I did this for five minutes or so, moving my hand from one side to the other.
I sneezed and decided it was time to stop. Merlot looked blankly at me, staring straight up to my eyes and then rubbed the top of her head on my arm once again. She stroked my arm with her cheeks, and even climbed into my lap. She licked the side of my hand and moved her cheek to it as well. I looked back down at her, and she looked at me.
It was in this moment that I thought to myself; me and her, we're not so unlike each other, we're actually quite similarly attached.