It’s hoodie weather. Finally! (I’m a t-shirt guy, but a t-shirt without a hoodie is like tights without a cape, you know?) Anyway, as I sat hoodied and warm in my armchair this morning, an afghan draped across my legs (knitted, not human),
our little cat decided to curl up next to me. I offered rubs, and then continued to work on my Very Significant Project. Until she began to purr. At which point I got melty and had to stop to write this sentimental bit of fluff:
O, the sound
of a satisfied cat
Was ever a music
more perfect than that?
I know: Cat poem? This probably means I’ll have to turn in my Serious Writer card, not to mention my Hemingway Club certificate. But, hey, I never attended the meetings, and they always spelled my name wrong, anyway. Now on with the day.
Wait, the cat’s in my lap now.