Moo's reputation preceded her.

Carol warned me.. "She's not a lap cat.."

Other folk had less flattering things to say about the legendary Moo.

So by the time I came over to house-sit and cat-sit Carol's cat.. I already had a plan of action:

I was gonna treat her like any other difficult woman....

I was gonna ignore her.

NO attempts to get near her.

NO attempts at affection.

I wasnt even gonna talk to her.

At first.. Moo was cool wid dat.

Then she saw I was dead serious, as I went about my business. I showed not one bit of interest.

By the night, she was starved for attention and not a happy camper.

She showed her displeasure as only a cat can.

Then meowled to get my attention

I stoically cleaned up the mess without an admonishing word. I kept ignoring her.

That scared her. She meowled some more, then after I closed the bedroom door, I didnt hear from her all night.

When I woke up, I didnt see her, until I searched in the closets and she streaked out.

I was so obviously a monster, she just looked at me and didnt even meowl.

Good. When theyre scared and confused - its time to switch tactics.

I put my hand down to her level as a peace offering, then sat down in Carol's favorite chair.

She eyed me, padded up and over for a bit - then came up beside me.

The cat who doesnt let anyone touch her was now ALL affectionate, pressed up against me, showing how cuddly New Yorkers can be once they get to know you.

I had never heard this cat purr before, was now purring as I had my hand deep in her fur, all over her, clouds of hair rising up around us as her tail whipped maddly.

Yo, I had my hand on her STOMACH yo.
No CAT will let you do that.

Of course, as with women - the battle of wills is never over.. but fer now, Moo is all comfy again, coming up to me as I write and at ease in her house.

Hey, she even jumped into my lap for some love.

Not a lap cat, eh.

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