I always wanted an "other" (or familiar or whatever they call them)!

I definitely think Owl is my other. She simply refuses to leave me in peace. As soon as I walk in the door, she is on her back presenting me with a belly to scratch. If I am typing -- oh, she must be typing with me, for however could I manage without her assistance?

Last week, she took great pleasure in tearing all of my notes to shreds -- for the litter box, she explained, darting off with the remains of a check in her jaws. Now if I attempt to write, she busies herself batting my pen to see if I am truly focused.