So the first Five Things I Love are not going to shock or appall anyone. In no particular order:
(1) Sunpuddles. I love to relax and snooze in a nice bright patch of sunshine on the bed or the sofa or the floor. One reason we decided to go with Staffpurrson is that his place has a lovely southern exposure and he likes to keep the blinds partially raised so that we get sunpuddles every sunny day, even when he's not home. And when that sunpuddle hits my fleece blanket on the bed dead-center, it's Nirvana and Utopia and Shangri-La all rolled into one. For at least five minutes.
(2) Staffpurrson's lap. It's an ideal spot. He lets me sit there for extended periods. He likes to stretch his legs out to maximize the floor space. He'll give me head and chin skritches while I'm there. And he minimizes the fidgeting and repositioning so that I don't get lapsick. What more could you ask for? (Well, he could hand-feed me bits of tuna and salmon jerky, but that's a subject for the next round of contract negotiations.)
(3) Water from the tap. Cold, oxygenated, loaded with minerals, fresh from the municipal pipeline, in a nice thin trickle perfect for lapping. That Drinkwell fountain with the 50-ounce reservoir in back? I use it to wash my paws. And don't even mention the ceramic bowl on the cat table in the kitchen that gets "fresh" water twice a day. If it's more than 5 minutes out of the tap, it's not fresh. I wonder if the water in the big white porcelain bowl tastes as good, but Staffpurrson keeps closing the lid and muttering something about "chlorine bleach" and "falling in and drowning." I hope that doesn't happen to him.
(4) The laser pointer. This both satisfies and frustrates me at the same time. I'm not sure how that can be, but it does. I use my laser-tracking vision power to keep it in sight at all times, and once it's less than a foot off the floor, I pounce. And yet... I can never catch it. But one day I will, and the fabric of space-time will tear and we'll all end up in some alternate reality where cats have goatees.
(5) Long stringy things. String is good. So is gift wrap ribbon, the plastic tie handles on garbage bags, rubber bands, twist ties, packing tape torn off shipping boxes, shoelaces, what have you. If a cat toy has a string on it, I don't care if it's the soft, chewiest mouse with the best catnip at the end of it -- I'm going for the string. Staffpurrson should be very glad he doesn't have dreadlocks.
This is not to say that I'm a complete idiot. I have no interest in those plastic covered cables and cords behind the computer desk and entertainment center. I can smell the electrons coursing through there, and I'd prefer that they not course through me. For which Staffpurrson is profoundly grateful.