Meet Snip

 

This is Snip.

 

Many years ago, my first features editor, Jan Larsen, gave me Snip for a Christmas present. Jan loved Siamese cats. I didn't have cats at the time, so Snip became my official newspaper cat.

 

Snip lives in my backpack. Whenever I had newspaper deadlines in the morning to meet (most of the time), and when the truck was late (back when I delivered newspapers), I would sit crosslegged on a work station, notes to one side, laptop in front of me, and Snip in plain view, a stern reminder of Jan's consternation in a few hours should I be late. I needed that reminder, because the combination of one o'clock in the morning and late trucks made me want to slink off to my van for a nap instead of settling into a plywood cubicle and compose.

 

Fast forward to the present.

 

During one of the first days on the new job, I suddenly noticed I was sitting on the very edge of my desk chair, my habit when I worked from home, since Faith (my calico) claimed the remaining surface. Since I'm missing my attic domain, and writing without cats scampering around is hard on the concentration, I decided to release Snip from her backpack prison for daytime hours only and give her an official presence in my office space.

 

   Most of the time, Snip sits on the back of my chair. However, when I'm rushed and deadlines are tight, I'm going to place her in bird's eye view (Snip will like that), to improve my focus (and fear).

 

Say, "Hi" to Snip.