So so Siamese

A person doesn't own a Siamese. The Siamese owns the person. It's a fact I'm not quite proud of--but I accept it. I don't pamper Karma, a Siamese cat that came into our lives via my daughter-in-law and son, but she acts like it.

No long back-story, but circumstances happened where it was best for her to stay with us. I have to say, I am a cat person. I love dogs. But I connect with cats a tad more. I have never had a Siamese in my household before--they aren't your average cat.

I walk two ways in my life--my normal everyday style of walking and the walking I have to do at home around Karma. You always have to be aware of the cat. Karma has many ways of directing attention to herself and one way she enjoys most is dive bombing you. Going down the stairs you have to watch where she is--if you don't your butt could be meeting carpet at any time. She loves to dive bomb people's calves as they are either half-way down the stairs or right at the bottom. One minute you are alone and moving confidently and the next you are grabbing for the stair rails praying not to fall on your face and break something.

I think she laughs as she does it. If there are such things as past lives, I firmly believe that Karma was a military soldier. She plots with such precision how to take down the enemy. Taking that last step onto the downstairs one has to always look at their feet. Karma likes to sit right at the bottom of the last step right in the middle. If you aren't paying attention, you have one screeching cat and one twisted ankle.

I can't count how many times I've started to walk around the room and out of the blue, a streak of tawny has thrown her body against me. I could understand if it was a Lassie keeping me from falling into the well, but I'm just walking into the kitchen.

Siamese are also different on how they want to cuddle. You can't just pick up Karma and hug her. Oh, no. She has to approach you, when she's wants, and not a second before. I will be sitting on my chair in the library with my leg leaning off the ottoman. I will feel a furry head bumping into my foot. She rubbing her head on the bottom of my foot. Five or six times she will do this and I can move my foot as if petting her, but gosh forbid I put my hands down there to pet her. A flash of fangs and my hands go back where they belong. She never breaks the skin, but she does let you know, it's all on her terms.

But that's okay. I can deal with it. She's a great companion. She's mostly quiet, clean and likes to just be around me although she does hog the foot of my bed at night.

Now, if I can only train her to sit, I think I might not break any bones.