The daily trials of Miu, whom I call Niko.

Given the male human’s past predilection for cuddling me, I would have thought he would have no problem with me rubbing up against his legs after he put on his pants in the morning. The pleasant texture of the fabric which these big, hairless mice put on their legs is often perfect for rubbing against, to loosen and remove the shedding hairs from my coat that begin to feel funny; sometimes itching, sometimes poking, but always annoying enough to make me upset enough to take it out on my black-coated housemate, Yau. I often find her sleeping in my favorite spots, in the windows and on the chairs, and that just makes me madder.

So I rub up against the human’s leg, and he jerks his leg back, gobbling in his mindless human babble: lubba lubba lubba! I calmly explain that my fur is itchy, and that it would help speed the grooming process if he would kindly stand still and allow me to make a few more passes, but each time I try he moves out of the way. Each time he does this I ask him nicely to stay still, but I really don’t think he understands what I’m saying to him, even after all these years. It’s really quite frustrating, but what else is there to do? I choose to stay here and he chooses not to throw me out and shut the door.

Fortunately, he hasn’t discovered my regurgitated food yet. That always makes him upset; for what it’s worth it bugs me too, but I just haven’t gotten the knack of eating slowly. I don’t know how Yau manages to keep her food down.

As the human leaves, surely not to be seen until the light comes in the windows on the other side of the food storage room, he pats me on the head and scratches my chin. At the very least I get this, and it feels pleasant enough to make me happy. I settle in for grooming. Since I didn’t get to rub off on him I just know it’s going to take all day.

This post was prompted by today’s Daily Post prompt.