Help! Human Overdosed On Sweet
This morning as I gradually tracked down and examined all 922 cats and "kittens", Angel was one of the last ones to be counted - he was sleeping on my pillow! He was sound asleep as I kissed his warm little tummy, all of his paws, the tip of his tail and then his little chin - breathing in his sweet kitten breath. Finally, still sound asleep, he started to purr...
posted by Lizzy at 2:07 PM
6 Comments:
Oh, Lizzy - what a charming picture!
I used to hold my Keiki-pie on my shoulder and rub my lips over his ears and he was especially delicious after laying in sunbeams - such a wonderful scent to his fur. Of course, I was also spiking my allergies every time I did that cuddling, but I'd still do it even now that I know I'm allergic.
Chumley, my friend's black cat, barely tolerates my kisses on top of his head. He's very much his own cat and decides how much affection he's willing to receive. Unfortunately for him, my petting often exceeds his tolerance and then he gets up from the sofa and heads for the bedroom to either sleep under the bed or on top of it. But I still track him down when I leave to capture him and kiss him if I can. It offends his dignity, I think. But he tolerates me.
Truly. I'm feeling that warm purry belly even as I read. Sandy, you shouldn't worry about Chumley. He secretly adores being pursued and kissed. Cats just like to act all superior and barely tolerant. It makes their lives worthwhile and reinforces their memories of being worshipped.
I agree about Chumley - Cyrrie TOTALLY pretends to be anti-cuddling, but 2 seconds later he's all like, WHY aren't you cuddling me??!
Last night I got about two hours of sleep because the cats (ahem, WICKET) were being soooo especially rambunctious. I heard pounds of flesh flung against walls, screeches that sounded wrung from Meera's throat, and Kai's sounds-like-he's-in-horrible-pain-but-he's-not distinct yowl. The three of them, every hour or so, would come boiling into my bedroom until I, in my mostly-asleep stupor, threw a handy shirt or book in their (almost but not quite) direction, and then they'd leave for the living room again. ANYWAY, the point being that in the midst of all this chaos and sleeplessness, there was a moment of such sweetness. Wicket was calm, for the moment, and lying inches from my face. I feared for my eyelids, but he just breathed into my face for a few seconds, and then was off again. I felt his tiny puffs of breath on my face, and smiled. What's a little chaos, really?
Ramon used to breathe gently on my eyelids to wake me up. It was the sweetest thing. How I miss that boy.
We never get over missing them. Tonight I came home and the moon was so incredibly full and gloriously beautiful and the moonlight so bright on my driveway and porch - all I could think of was my Nemo - a wild cat I knew only a month or so. There were a few nights when we cuddled in the moonlight on the porch. When I finally managed to get him to come in, I realized he was sick, and the next day at the vet's it turned out that he was in advanced FIV. I loved him so much in that short period of time. Qiron, your Ramon sounds like he was a darling...
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