Now and then you run across a person who will fascinate you more than others.
Our spotlight for this weekend’s Let Sleeping Dogs Lie & Napping Cats Nap lands on a fellow who does that fascination trick for me. We’ve mentioned him many times: My friend, The Senator. He’s like what people used to say about Elvis Presley: “He’s a different kind of cat.”
That opening photograph is The Senator counseling a guy who admires him -- yes, to have one’s photo taken with The Senator as he edits and makes literary suggestions, that is a privilege.
No idea how he got started in life or where he came from, but, clearly, he is senatorial in his demeanor. We think that photo was from a holiday party -- he was reminding people that it was time to go back to work because the American people are paying their wages. That's my theory, anyway.
Someone loved him at some point. He was already fixed and fully adult when he wandered onto our front porch years ago and began living with the ferals.
He didn’t fight. He didn’t argue. He just was just basic white cat with black adornments and a big purr. Not a pushover, not aggressive, but firm in his stance.
One day I held the front door open for him and he cautiously padded in, staked out a place next to my desk and has been a household fixture ever since.
He’s great to hold. You don’t just hear his purr, you feel it -- like when you’re watching a parade and the high school drum section passes by and makes your lungs vibrate.
And I’ve mentioned many times before that this cat is named The Senator because he has a hairline that looks as if he’s gotten hair plugs -- like some of the men in the U.S. Senate.
It is not difficult to imagine The Senator as a “person of influence” in the nation’s capital. He knows how to communicate. He can do it gently with a purr and a softly placed paw or he can be firm, i.e., sitting in my lap as I write and, when I type something he doesn’t like, he correctively nips my hand. I keep a box of Band-aids handy.
Still, a nip on the hand is kinder than some editors I’ve had. I’m kidding. Nobody’s as sweet as a newspaper editor -- why, heck, I, myself, was a sweet editor for many years.
But The Senator is my companion.
And, as you can see in these photos, he does what I cannot do: He naps. Bless his heart.
He can nap with a purpose, too. One day I didn't see him, so I went on a house-wide search and found him curled up on a flat of cat food. Making a point, you know. I took the hint.
I included that “dance photo” of The Senator, also. He looks as if he’s just finished dancing on Broadway and hit this pose to stare at the audience at the end of a showstopper. When my friend Shirley Newsom, a veteran editor and animal fan, first saw this photo, she asked, “Is The Senator twerking?” He can if the situation requires it.
But he’s got a grip on dignity. And he’s got an understanding of the needs of a human.
Sometimes his understanding is that I need neither the mousepad nor the mouse -- that’s him sleeping on the mousepad and the mouse, having imposed his big cat booty under the computer screen. It's one of those, "Let's see if I can fit under here" moments for The Senator.
Once I put a traditional cat bed under his private table and he crawled into it and curled up, then, muttering “I’m no stereotype,” he rose and went back to whatever it is he goes back to.
Usually, when I am writing, he is sleeping on the wooden TV tray I put next to the desk --not for him, but for me so I could, when I hit a pause, reach over and pet him, rub his side, rub his Senatorial head.
I can even pick him up and hold him.
These photos? They are of The Senator on the back of Martha’s recliner. Making a point.
As you can see, in one of the photos, he is face down on the cover -- you don’t have a cat without having a furniture cover, right? Why is he burying his face in the cover? Because I wouldn’t give him the TV remote and he couldn’t bear watching the news.
Some people watch it, some make it. He’s a guy whose uncomfortable not being in the Washington spotlight, I guess.
On Friday morning, I reached for him and he was not there.
He also was not on the back of the recliner and not on a box next to the desk and not on the back of the couch. So I went looking for him and found his new place to sleep. That’s it in the last photo. He’s filling up the seat on my exerspouse Martha’s new recumbent bicycle. She wasn’t using it, so he took over. Of course, his paws don't reach the pedals. I guess he misses the Senate gym now and then.
Yeah, I love The Senator. He’s what happens if you give a cat a chance.
[LARRY REQUEST: Send the photos and stories of your admirable slumbering animals to [email protected] and we’ll post ‘em in Let Sleeping Dogs Lie & Napping Cats Nap and let the world learn about your friends. Remember, you may inspire someone to adopt and save a life. And, for sure, your slumbering friends will inspire the world’s insomniacs to believe that we, too, can sleep if w can find the comfy piece of exercise equipment.]