I'll be going to bed soon and we'll see how long it takes him to get bored again. lately he's been much more insistent that I chase him around for like half an hour at a time, several times a day. no wonder my back hurts: part of the chasing requires bending down to scoop him up and rub his belly till he wriggles out of your arms to run away and then hunch down expectantly, waiting for you to pick him up again.
he's really very cute but sometimes it is hard to get anything done when he wants attention. he will not play alone. he simply won't. if he's awake, he's trying to get somebody to chase and/or molest him. how'd I end up with such a gregarious cat? I suppose maybe the gods sent him to me on purpose. why he still trusts the universe so sweetly after giving up three lives in four years is beyond me. little finite feline memory, perhaps. but jackson seems to remember something less happy, and he's not an intellectual giant by any means.
little aliens. sometimes I wish they could talk but you know? I think it's best that they don't. of course, jackson might could use therapy, but santiago already is a motor-mouth. if I had to actually formulate answers to his questions (beyond "meow" or getting up to chase him) I'd be mentally exhausted even more so than usual.