Journeys With Jani

Real Life. Real Travel. Real Talk.

Bean: The Pretty Predator

Let’s Talk About It…

Bean has never been what you’d call a “cuddly cat.” He’s more of a pretty predator… the kind of feline that looks like he should be purring on a velvet cushion but is actually plotting world domination from the back of the sofa.

He’s 11 now, which supposedly makes him about 60 in human years. Sixty! And since I’m 56, that number doesn’t sound so old anymore. Ha! Age has softened him a little, though. These days, he’s more of a part-time snuggle bug, emphasis on part-time. Because at any given moment, he can go from sweet to savage faster than you can say “Here, kitty kitty.”

Take last night for example.

I head to bed and grab my fluffy pillow to prop up my arm… trying to avoid shoulder surgery, mind you. In strolls Bean. Meow. Meow. Meow. He pauses, like he’s waiting for an engraved invitation. Once formally acknowledged, he proceeds to pace the perimeter of the bed as if inspecting a new kingdom.

Then he hops up onto the fluffy pillow, kneads a few biscuits, and for good measure… switches to my bare arm. Back and forth. Fluffy pillow. Bare skin. Fluffy pillow. Bare skin. His version of multitasking, I suppose.

When the biscuits are sufficiently “baked,” he starts the slow circling ritual. Round and round until that magnificent tail of his sweeps dramatically across my face. He finally settles… half on the pillow, half on my dignity… furry butt in my direction, eyes locked on me like a security camera with claws.

And here’s the thing, I want to be happy. He looks happy. He looks cozy. He’s purring. But I know those eyes. Those are the eyes of a cat who could go from warm snuggles to full-blown facial reconstruction in half a heartbeat.

So I do what any rational human does. I pull the quilt up to my chin, whisper a prayer for mercy, and accept that living with Bean means sleeping next to both affection and potential carnage.

Because at the end of the day, he’s my Bean—the pretty predator with a purr that melts my heart… and murder mittens that keep me humble.

XOXO, Jani

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