Tweak, leaps on the bed and pins me in: “Why aren’t you petting me?”
Me: “I’m tired.”
Tweak: “But I’m pretty.”
Me: “Tweak, it doesn’t work that way. Both people have to want to.”
Tweak: “But I always want to.”
Me: “You only have to lay there!”
Tweak: “Lie.”
Me: “I am lying.”

Tweak stomps over my chest, flips her tail in air. Her ass reminds me that it’s an ass.

Tweak: “You should pet me.”
Me: “Tweak, I’m trying to sleep.”

She flips her body into an S-shape like a magic trick. Her impossibly blue eyes stare at me upside down.

Tweak: “Pet me.”
Me: “You’re giving me the bends.”

She stretches long and stabs my arm with a talon, then bashes her forehead into my ribs. Again. And again.

Tweak: “I. Am. Very. Pretty.”

So I pet her.

Tweak: “Learn from me.”
Me: “Kiss my ass.”
Tweak: “Exactly.”

 

17 May 2015 – “Tolerating Tweak”