I mentioned before that Otis is a certifiable lap fungus these days.

Well, I was practicing my (loud) french horn last night and Otis was
incorrigible.  Every time that I would stop, his head would appear around
the corner, he'd leap into the room and try to jump on my lap.  I'd
eventually pick up my horn again, and he would run out to just around the
corner (though sometimes he would stay).

Eventually, to his great relief, I finished, put the horn away, and curled
up with a book (I love it now that its dark at night and the kids go to bed
earlier).  He immediately claimed not my lap but my chest.  He put his paws
on either side of my neck and cuddled in purring.  There he remained as I
craned my neck above him to read for over an hour.

Why?

I've always had this pat theory that we're like mothers to their kittens.
When they're inside, we provide them food  and groom them and they get to be
like kittens again.  Though, even outside yesterday, Otis was yowling and
coming up to me demanding affection constantly.  Is it just the warmth of
our bodies, the yummy massaging they get, the free food?  Why do they get so
attached to us?  Even Chester did that wobbly wheelie when I called his name
after his surgery last week.  He was excited to see me.  This whole
interspecies thing is pretty amazing.

Susan M
Otis and Chester
Pondering larger questions