My old gray tiger boy, who just passed away, used to calmly sit in his cat tree and alternate between purring and snoring when I sewed late at night.
My bad kitty, the younger black boy, likes to bat at the needle when I sewed...have to move him away all the time. That, I don't mind so much. What I do mind is when he decides he doesn't like the way I've laid out my quilt blocks and he rearranges them. Now, when it's time to sew the blocks into rows and finish the top, Raider has to go to kitty prison (my bedroom)