He’s been with me since the start. When I first began to take my writing more seriously, he lent his quiet support. He’s purred for me when I’ve been down from rejection letters. He’s kneaded me as I’ve worked, and stolen my writing chair on occasion.
He’s Bucky, my adorable feline. He’s my writing buddy, and I love him more than I should. He always lingers at my desk, demanding I give him deserved attention. Mews, coos, and rubbing himself against my legs. If he doesn’t get his way, he doesn’t have a problem with playing dirty. He’ll block my laptop screen and stare at me with wide, love eyes.
But for every word I’ve written, he’s been there. Whether he’s been taking a cat nap or waiting for his Fancy Feast, he’s been with me. Five years and one of my strongest relationship. And I foresee no end as my writing continues on.