I got to my desk late this morning. Couldn’t be helped. While I was eating breakfast, Samba – my tortoise-shell cat – jumped up onto the kitchen table.

Now, some of you may be thinking, “Eww. How could you let a cat up on the table? You eat there.”

Well, the truth is, when you have cats, keeping them off of things is really a suggestion at best. And when the cat has a truly arboreal nature – as Samba most definitely does – trying to keep them off of any given surface is treated as a game.

“Oh! This is an important place! And you want to play guardian? Okay.”

In other words, the cat will feel motivated to go there. Possibly when you’re not around. Who can be really sure about that? (Short of putting a camera on the cat, or something.) But when you aren’t around, it’s not a game, and less important.

When you are around? Game on! Cat’s going for it.

The cat will wait until you’re busy, or distracted, or maybe have your hands full, then BOOM!

Cat’s right where you said not to go. Looking at you. Possibly giggling.

That’s right. Cats giggle. Oh, it’s not a sound they make, so much as a sensation that emanates from them. It indicates that they’re playing a game with you and, as far as they’re concerned, they’re winning.

Oh. I talked about arboreal cats, and I didn’t really explain that.

See, all cats are capable of climbing. But some seem to feel a call to look down on the world from the highest places they can get to.

Samba, for example. She has been atop every flat surface in our house. Every cabinet, every bookcase, every bureau. Hell, that cat will walk along the narrow, rounded rail on the second floor landing. Just because she can.

Side note: I hate that. I’m terrified that the day will come when even that amazingly sure-footed cat slips and falls to the hardwood floor below.

I try to discourage her from rail-walking. I don’t yell at her, or freak out or anything like that. Instead, whenever she’s up there, I’ll turn away and do something else. As though I don’t even see her. If possible, I’ll pay attention to Pel or Khaavren, our other two cats.

Cats love attention. Even bad attention sometimes. If they know you hate something, they’ll do it just to get your attention. Then they’re likely to do something sweet, so you’ll forgive them and give them the kind of attention they prefer.

But if you ignore what they’re doing, then they’re more likely to do something else instead.

In the case of Samba’s rail-walking, I did freak out the first couple of times. She was a kitten. But I’ve noticed that ever since I began the campaign of ignoring her on the rail, she’s stopped almost completely. No more than one walk every month or three.

So, all of this brings us back to the kitchen table this morning.

See, I know that, in theory, I should ignore her when she jumps up onto the kitchen table. Even though we keep her away from our food, and clean the table when she gets down, it’s still not exactly hygienic.

But here’s the thing. When that little black and orange ball of love and mischief jumps up onto the table, she’s in her happy place. She buffs my chin aggressively. Rolls around to ask for belly rubs. And all the while purring loudly, her eyes closed in bliss.

So. Yeah. I got to my desk late. I had to take time to pet a cat. I’m good with that decision.

My writing day is usually interrupted three or four times by one cat or another seeking attention. Pel, wanting to be picked up and carried around for a few minutes. Khaavren, wanting some lap time. Samba, jumping up on my desk and blocking my monitor until I stop and pet her.

They know exactly when and how to get me to take those breaks, by the way. They don’t interrupt me when the words are flowing fast and fierce. No. They show up when my hands are off the keyboard.

Cats study us. They know our habits and tendencies as well as we do. Maybe better.

I try to return the favor. I study them right back. Figure out the way each of them differs in behavior, and – I like to think – perspective.

Every cat is different. Not just in their obvious behavior patterns, but their tastes, their approaches. Sure, there are commonalities, but it’s in the details where every cat’s personality really comes through.

When I started writing, I had no doubt that cats would end up in my stories. What I didn’t appreciate then was how they’d get into almost everything.

Benny Sugg in the Rise of Magic series. Dr. John in the Spells for Hire series. And in so many short stories now that I’ve had to collect them in a book called Longhairs and Short Tales: A Collection of Cat Stories.

Right now* that short story collection is only available in a StoryBundle just chock full of cat stories. Short stories and novels. Fantasy, mystery, romance, even post-apocalyptic cat ladies.

Ten books for one low price. And six of those books, you can’t get anywhere else. Sounds to me like a deal worth checking out. Click anywhere on the image below for more information.

*It’ll be available to your friendly neighborhood bookstore in print and ebook as of May 1^st, with pre-orders going live after the StoryBundle closes.