Snapshots

This is why you need a cat:

When the air is turning cool and your bare feet begin to chill, your cat will come over and lay on your chest. This will not help, but you will enjoy absorbing the vibrations of his purrs into your ribcage and letting them spread down to your toes, possibly warming them a little.

When you've just gotten comfortable in your favorite chair, and your fuzzy grey blanket is wrapped around your shoulders, and your favorite murder mystery is in one hand and a mug of cider in the other, your cat will jump up onto your lap, landing directly on your bladder. As you let out an oof and clutch your mug to keep the cider from spilling, you are met with two contradictory urges: the first is to leave your chair to pee, and the second is to stay with your cat, who is now curled on your legs like a sleepy, furry cinnamon roll. You will be unable to decide for several minutes, leaving you in more and more discomfort until at last you apologetically push your cat from your lap, place the mug and the book on the nearest flat surface, and waddle to the bathroom. This is a reminder to relieve yourself before committing to an extended period of comfort, although you will forget every time.

When you are about to get up from your seat to get ready for that thing you said you would go to, your cat will appear in your lap like some kind of feline genie, ready to grant you any three wishes so long as you let him nap on your legs. You'll smile and coo at him and rub his ears, telling him how cute he is, and you decide you can afford to be a few minutes late to that thing you said you would go to in order to watch him sleep on your limbs in an extra-adorable way. But cats can nap for hours, and next thing you know, you canceled that thing even though you said you would go, and both you and your cat are napping happily on the couch.

When you're lying in bed sometime between yesterday and tomorrow and you're looking at the world through closed eyelids, your cat will decide it's the perfect time to go for a run. You will hear his paws thump in a galloping rhythm on the carpet and recognize the sound of him jumping up onto the couch, scrambling to the other end, and leaping down, his claws catching on the tiniest of strings in the fabric and pulling them a bit looser. He skitters and slides across the tile floor of the kitchen, gaining just enough traction to fly onto the counters. You hear something fall to the floor, but you can't tell what it is, and since it didn't sound like breaking glass, you don't care enough to get up. Just when you start to doze off again, he bounds into the bedroom and soars onto the bed, a tiny tornado with talons, teeth, and the widest pupils you've ever seen encircled by thin rings of yellow like a solar eclipse. His claws dig into the blanket, giving him the force he needs to land square on your face. With two feet on your forehead, one on your cheek, and the other on your chin, he uses your head as a launchpad to send him back to the floor and out of the room, disappearing as quickly as he came and leaving a thin scratch on your cheek. Sometime later, you hear a familiar meow at your bedroom door. He hops up onto your bed and stretches himself across your stomach, purring and peaceful. What you do not know is that he just chased a ghost around the house, protecting you from possible death. He is a hero, and you are safe.

When you've just come home from work, when it's all you can do to keep from shit-talking your idiot coworkers, when all you want to do is sit down for just five minutes, your cat will be there, meowing wildly, weaving in and out of your legs, leading you to where his food is kept. He's been trying to open that door all day, and he's relieved that you've arrived to help him. You'll want to ignore him, you'll try to walk back toward the couch, perhaps you'll even pick him up and carry him, but he knows all of your tricks and will claw his way back to the ground where he'll continue tripping you until at last you give in, open the pantry door, and scoop some food. He'll begin eating before you've even finished emptying the scoop, causing kibble to bounce off his head and onto the floor, scattering around your feet. You won't bother to pick it up. You'll toss the scoop back into the bag of food and close the pantry door before you finally collapse on the couch, listening to his chewing and purring. You saved him from certain starvation, and he is eternally grateful.

When you're curled up on your bed, crying because your friend is mad at you for something you don't even know you did and they won't even talk to you anymore no matter how many times you apologize, you'll hear a familiar brr? You'll feel a weight on the bed and turn to see your cat walking toward you, slowly stepping on your stomach with one, two, three, four paws. You'll reach out your hand to pet him, and he'll press his head into it, raising his tail with that curl at the end that looks like a question mark. He'll stare at you, blinking once, then lay down, his feet disappearing beneath his fur. Purrs will rumble from his chest to yours. You'll forget you've been crying; for a moment, you'll be unaware of the tears drying on your face (you'll be reminded when your cat goes to lick them in a minute) as you stroke the softest fur in the world. Your cat doesn't speak English, but you'll know he's telling you that everything will be okay as long as he's around. And it will be. As long as he has plenty of attention, ghosts to chase, and food in his bowl, it will be.