The Truth Behind The Cat As Muse

Elizabeth Black writes erotica, erotic romance, dark fiction, and horror. She is the author of the Night Owl Top Pick erotic romance novel "Don't Call Me Baby", published by Naughty Nights Press. You may find her on Facebook (elizabethablack) and at her web site. She lives on the Massachusetts coast with her husband, son, and four cats. She visits the ocean every morning, and it starts her day off just right.

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This is my cat, Lucky. He's my muse. Whether I like it or not.

Do you have pets that keep you entertained while you write? Many people believe that cats are the perfect muse. They sit by your side, purring contentedly as you create new worlds. They crawl into your lap and bask in your presence, all the time looking at you with love and inspiration in their eyes. Many famous writers have written about cats and how adorable, inspiring, and quixotic they are. 

They lie.

This has been my typical day lately. This is the exciting life of a writer. Trying to write with cats in the house is an exercise in patience.

I awaken not long after dawn. Most often it's because the rising sun wakes me up. The other reason is that one of my cats - Beowulf - begins meowing at the crack of dawn demanding his breakfast. He, Scully, and Domino get moist food every morning, and Beowulf is the breakfast bell that makes sure they get fed. Like they're going to starve. LOL Lucky, the fourth cat, doesn't like canned food so he doesn't get any.

I first make coffee. Then I set their food bowls out. They eat and it is quiet for about 15 minutes. It's the most peaceful moment of the day. Then I take about 20 minutes to water my plants. I grow my own herbs and peppers, and they need water every morning, especially in this summer heat.

I return to the kitchen to move Beowulf out of Scully's bowl and plop him back down in front of his own. I turn on the tap for Domino to drink water. There is a cat water fountain on the floor for all of them to use. She refuses to use it. She wants her water fresh and cold out of the kitchen or sink tap. Spoiled little lap fungus.

In the meantime, Beowulf has finished his food and has gone back to Scully's bowl. I move Scully's bowl to the window. Plop her in front of it.  She eats most of it and leaves. Beowulf then jumps onto the window sill and finishes her food. Domino in the meantime has finished her food and water. I turn off the tap, put the empty cat food bowls in the sink, and head for the living room. Although Lucky doesn't like canned food, he does like tuna so he'll help himself to Beowulf's food. I can't give him his own bowl of tuna because he won't eat it. It has to be his idea. Doofus.

I turn on my computer. Lucky immediately jumps on my table and sits in front of the computer screen. I have to place my keyboard on the floor every night because he sits on it, knocks it over, plays "hide the mouse", etc., etc., ad nauseum. I move Lucky onto his own table, one right behind mine. There's even a dish towel with cats on it on top of that table, just for him.

I go get coffee. Come back to my computer to find Lucky in front of it again. I sit down, blow on the cat to get him off my table, pick up my keyboard, put it on my table, and proceed to check my mail and Facebook.

Lucky jumps up again. I blow him off. Three times is the charm.

I answer my mail and update and read Facebook. By now it's about 8 am. Once I finish mail and Facebook, I head for the beach for my morning beach walk with my cup of coffee. I often forget to put my keyboard back on the floor.

An hour later I come home to sometimes find my keyboard upside-down on the floor on one side of the table and the mouse upside down on the floor on the other side. I put everything back in place, check to make sure Lucky didn't delete anything - so far he never has - and then I begin writing.

If I'm fortunate, Lucky is asleep with my son. If not, he's sometimes bored and wants attention, which means he crawls all over me and my keyboard again. I put a stop to that very quickly. I play string with him, and then I occasionally sprinkle catnip on his towel on his table. That keeps him occupied for an hour or two so I can get my work done.

I write. The cat is relaxed and happy. The other cats are napping after their fill of breakfast. If I'm lucky, I'm uninterrupted until about noon, when I quit writing for the day. I spend afternoons reading, researching, and doing promo. If the cats get underfoot during those times, it's not so bad.

So there you have it. Trying to work with cats in the house can be challenging. Such is the exciting and fun-filled life of a writer. I wonder if Hemingway ever had these kinds of problems with his polydactyl cats?

Just think... if they had thumbs, the trouble they'd get into. :)