I am owned by a cat.

For years, I resisted having any pets on the grounds that I had kids, and the last thing I wanted was to be responsible for yet another living being. I resisted all pleas to get a cat, a dog, a parakeet, a monkey... (and no, BNL, I haven't always wanted a monkey).  Not to mention being allergic to both dogs and cats (and probably monkeys, although I haven't had enough exposure to find out).

Then, four years ago, right before he left for the Arctic, the Rocket Scientist trapped two feral kittens in our backyard.  In spite of my protests, we kept them.  Chocolate, the more friendly of the two, sadly died of a congenital heart condition at the age of three. (We later got Pandora, so named because she is beautiful - she is a Russian blue -- and prone to getting into trouble.  As it turns out, she has a tremendous fondness for boxes.  And no, I am not making this up.)

Penwiper, named after a kitten in my favorite science fiction book, was always more fiercely independent.  She wasn't willing to be cuddled by just anyone.  Which was fine by me, since I am not by nature a cuddly person.  So naturally, she decided that I must be the alpha human, and decided to adopt me.  She climbs on top of me when I am laying in bed and demands to be petted.  She will bat books down if I am reading, step on computer keyboards if I am writing, sit down in front of me if I am watching TV.  (Unless I am watching Animal Planet.  She particularly likes shows about lions.  I am convinced she thinks she can be one one day if she just tries hard enough.)

But the absolute final straw came last week.

At 4 am one night,  Penwiper climbed on top of me and started meowing very loudly.  She did this until I got out of bed to follow her.  She usually does this when she wants to be let into the garage -- but generally not in the middle of the night.

She walked into the living room, turning around every few steps to make sure that I was following her.  She walked over and sat down in front of the Christmas tree. She then commenced practically howling until... I plugged in the Christmas tree.  She then turned around, started staring at the lights, and purring.

I have got to start enforcing limits with this damn cat.