I have to laugh every time I see the question, "Do you own a cat?". I laugh because the answer really depends on your perspective. If by "Do you own a cat?" one asks
a)do I regularly purchase food, litter, toys, etc. for one of the feline persuasion,
b)do all of my clothes have feline fur on them, and/or
c)does at least one living being in the house cry out MEOW loudly when dinnertime rolls around,
the answer is, "Yes". Otherwise, I'm sure the cat owns me. Ask her, and if she feels inclined to acknowledge your presence, she'll tell you so, too.
I recently read a vet's sign: "Dogs come when you call. Cats take a message and get back to you." Sammy wouldn't bother checking her messages.
Sammy is selective about keeping company with humans. She is a true touch-me-not. This makes knitting in her presence easy. I knit; she ignores me. Her interest in yarn is limited to chasing the piece that is attached to the child running through the house, and that game gets old fast. I should say her interest is generally limited.
She did, for some odd reason, take a shine to my first sock [Ann Budd's On-Your-Toes, Interweave Knits Summer 2007]. I put it into my bag for a moment to talk on the phone. I looked down and saw Sammy chewing through the loop of yarn between ball (in the bag) and sock (in the bag) that hung outside. I cried, ranted, begged her to tell me what she had against my beautifully self-striping yarn and why she had to nibble a short color rather than a long color. The cat ignored me. The dog at least had the decency to hide under the stairs!