My cat decided my book was actually a bed the second I sat down tonight. Fought me for it for a solid 10 minutes before I gave up and just let her sit on it, half-open, ears twitching every time I turned a page under her.
The other one just watched from the doorway like she was judging both of us.
Told myself this year I’d actually finish something instead of restarting the same three books over and over. Currently stuck on page 40-something since Tuesday, and at this rate I’ll finish it sometime next year.
Not even mad about it honestly, just tired. 90 minutes each way on the train already eats most of my reading time, and now apparently I’ve got a cat with opinions about the rest of it too.