Meet Nunu, who sheds on my keyboard, squawks at me when I type too energetically, and expands immediately to fill any unoccupied space as soon as I move the laptop. She's my lap cat.
I say mine, because she'll sleep next to T's shoulder on the back of the couch, but it's me she sleeps on. She greets me at the door on Thursday evening with a bounce and whirl that demands compliance: "Come sit down and make a lap!" she chirps at me. "Hurry up!"