I Am Leslie Lange

Maisie the cat

When the cat and I are alone together, and I'm reading on the couch, which I've covered with a sheet to protect myself from dander (or I've put on a hoodie sweatshirt and pulled the hood up over my head), she rolls on her back near my feet and lets me rest the entire sole of my size 10 against her striped furry belly. To me, this totally counts toward time spent "communing with nature." Why, if not because of love, does this wild creature not sink her teeth into my toe?

click here to prevent Dyke Drama

The Cat

Right now, as I sit here typing, a very cute cat is walking back and forth across my hands, artfully stepping over my forearms, tightroping along the tiny edge of desk in front of the laptop's keyboard, and running her tail along my upper lip, which is to say up under my nose. The cat's name is Maisie and she's filled with love for me, and I for her...except for one problem: I am allergic.