About

Genie

Photo essay

If you’re ever in a call with me, there’s a good chance you’ll see (or hear) her in the background (and occasionally in the foreground).

We got Genie at the Orlando Cat Cafe shortly after we moved into our current house. She is a4 year old American shorthair, and I think she’s pretty cute!

A brown tabby cat sits upright on a pile of packed black duffel bags against a plain wall, staring directly at the camera with her ears forward.
Bags packed, itinerary unread, position already taken.
The cat lies stretched across a desk with her face and front paws resting on an open laptop’s trackpad, a monitor behind her.
Every piece of software on this site has been reviewed by someone lying directly on the trackpad.

She supervises the parts of this that involve sitting still, which is most of them.

The cat looks up from a round wicker bed positioned directly beneath a desktop computer with its side panel removed, tools on the carpet nearby.
The tower came apart above her and she did not move for any of it. I worked around the bed.
The cat peers over the top of a white painted ledge with her front paws braced on the edge, looking down at the camera.
Reached the high ground. Reviewed the room from it. Unimpressed.
The cat lies alert in a patch of sunlight on a floral quilt beside a chunky blue knit blanket, near a bright window.
The sun moves about a foot an hour across that bed and she moves with it, which is more discipline than I apply to most things.
The cat lies curled and relaxed on a colourful granny-square crocheted blanket draped over a checkered sofa.
The blanket was, by any reasonable reading of events, bought for her. She has never once acknowledged this.
A close-up of the cat asleep, her face tucked against a crocheted blanket, fur and whiskers in sharp detail.
The whole point of her, really.
The cat crouches beneath a lit and decorated Christmas tree, looking toward the camera.
Confirmed under the tree every December. Holiday spirit remains unconfirmed.
The cat sits upright on a table runner beside an ornate teal ceramic vase, a small white ceramic cat figurine, and a potted plant.
Placed among the ornaments, she improved the arrangement and declined to be removed from it.
The cat reclines on a grey couch cushion looking at the camera, her tail blurred by motion mid-flick, a staircase behind her.
The tail is the only part of her that ever admits to having an opinion.