The Most Important Thing About Leila Sales... her cats

Maybe you feel like you already know about me all you need to know. Maybe you feel like, “Leila, we get it, you write books, and I guess that’s reasonably cool, but really what more is there to say about it.”

I get that. Enough about me. Let’s talk about my pets instead.

This big one is named Luna:

Luna is the boss. Everyone has a hearty respect for Luna’s preferences at all times. Luna never has to fight; she just lounges wherever she pleases, taking up whatever floor space you were maybe hoping to walk across, and lets treats and cuddles be delivered to her.

Nothing excites Luna. She naps for like 90% of the day, most of the time on my shoes. It is exhausting work, being Luna.

This one is Luna’s sister, Lux:

Lux has been described as “the most pathetic” of our cats. She weighs about half as much as Luna, probably because she is allowed to eat only once Luna feels like she is done. There are whole rooms that Lux is not allowed to go into, which is challenging, because my apartment has only three rooms, total.

Lux likes to hang out directly behind you and claw pitifully at your arm until you pet her. But if you move her to a more convenient petting position (i.e. in front of you) she will mew desperately, her eyes wide with terror as she contemplates her own mortality.

Lux has tried to escape on multiple occasions. She imagines that she could be happier out there in the wide world. I think she’s wrong, though. I think this is as happy as Lux gets.

This baby one is Graham:

We found her abandoned and starving on Graham Avenue two and a half years ago, so we gave her a home. For a few weeks she was the sweetest, most docile cat I’d ever met. Then it turned out that she’d gotten some parasite on the street which was stealing every nutrient she swallowed. Once she got better and regained her energy, she became a holy terror.

Graham likes to chase around everything, including her tail and Lux. She does not walk anywhere: she only runs. If there is an obstacle in her path, she will vault over it. This works well when the obstacle is Luna. It is more absurd when the obstacle is a human, and Graham vaults straight into your knees.

This one is Fluffy Ruffles:

We got Fluffy Ruffles at IKEA. We did not give him his name. That’s IKEA’s name. We did decide that he was a he, though, because between three girl cats and me, I felt like we had enough females living here.

When I leave for work in the morning, I say, “Graham, you’re the man of the house while I’m gone.” Then I’ll remember about Fluffy Ruffles and say, “Actually, Fluffy Ruffles, you are the man of the house.” Then my boyfriend will pipe up from the other room, “Can I be the man of the house?” And then I’m like, “You know what, I am late for work.”

The pets have all watched me write this blog post. (Except Lux, who obviously is not allowed to be in the same room where the rest of us are.) They give their approval.