That Cyrrie

This morning I was getting ready for work when Cyrrie joined me in the bathroom, and he hung around even after I'd given him the first drink out of the freshly filled water bowl which we, like all sensible households, keep in the bathtub. Hmmm, I thought, wants attention, but when I went to scoop him up, he ran off as if escaping a fate worse than fate. Fine, I thought, and went back to mascara. But almost immediately he was back, so, after carefully ignoring him for many seconds, I kicked the bathroom door shut, trapping him before he could flee again. Oh, noes! said Cyrrie, as I picked him, and rubbed his little face and massaged his toesies and tickled his tummy with kisses. And then I let him go again. And back he came, this time for a marathon session of cuddles and sweet-talk and major league purring... He is such a little hypocrite!