Our cat is very pretty, very stupid, and getting old. I'm not being mean when I say she's stupid: when my sister saved her from Stray-Cat-Dom she'd had some sort of traumatic brain injury and it shows to this day. But she is exceptionally sweet and very very pretty, so that mostly makes up for it - plus it's kind of fun to say, "ooh, little brain damaged kitty!" while petting her, kind of a change from the usual oobly-boobly things we murmur to cats while stroking them.
It's taken her well over a year to figure out that sewing is an active-participation activity for a cat (well, active in cat terms, you know); it's only in the past few weeks that she has begun haunting my cutting mat, the ironing board and, today, my box of strings. It's nerve-wracking trying to keep her from the iron and hard to gently tug those strings from beneath her sleeping body! She snores, too.