Cats
puke-bombs on the rugs
litter box changes
yowling in the mornings
white fur on all my black clothing
pleading for attention when i'm already running late
food disappearance that seems impossible for a little 6-lb feline
welcoming you back after a long, shitty day
fur reminders that a kitty can't wait for you to get home
lavishing attention when you're feeling down
at least never pees outside the box
tries to cover his messes and
stares at you with those helpless eyes
My Frankie is pure white, fur as pure as his soul. His bright blue almonds break their doteful gaze from me for only three things: food, napping, flies.
He'll eat an insect in one swoop and swallow. Attack strings, buttons, zippers, necklaces, and rub his saber-tooth fangs on the corners of your jeans.
Open closets are fair game for exploration, and he doesn't particularly mind if he gets locked in.
His wispy tail explodes into a fuzzy pipe-cleaner when he's extra happy (e.g. when Rae and I are both home at the same time and we all cuddle together.)
He loves sleeping in armpits and warming laps, making sure whatever happens during the day we know that we're still his favorite people.
I think it's probably true, that things about cats lowering your blood pressure. But I see it more as a roller-coaster, a give and take of sorts. It's true no matter how many times I have to wash the same rug in a week, my little guy is loved.
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