Cats like to help. Or at least , they like to think they’re helping.
I am writing right now with a cat in a box on my lap. This is where he thinks he belongs when I’m at the computer. If I ignore him when he comes swishing around me, he stands on his hind legs and pokes my shoulder with his paw. Repeatedly. This can be annoying. So he’s on my lap. In a box. Because he’s a little bit weird.
When I’m writing a book and come to the place where I need to see it all at once, I lay it down on the floor all around me. You can imagine how fun this is for the cats. I haven’t figured out yet why they feel the need to step on paper on the floor. Does the crinkling sound musical? Do they like the way they can leave paw prints on the page? Why is lying on paper preferable to lying on the carpet? I don’t know.
Pens are also a big draw. Writers’ tools are cats’ playthings. Which is not often helpful. Unless it is helpful to be distracted.
Sometimes it is helpful. I don’t want to be so focused on the words that I forget the softer side of life. The fur that can purr.