My tiny tiger Misty is a brown tabby cat. Her coat is desert camouflage embodied in warm, soft velvet.
Being a cat, she sometimes seeks my lap when I'm engrossed in something on my ipad. She wreathes herself around the device, trying to substitute herself for it. But I'm stubborn. She succeeds only in scenting it as hers.
Soon, though, I develop a free hand and the desire to stroke her fur with it. Like an old Greek fisherman with his worry beads, I soothe my fingers and mind with her luscious coat. She purrs her approval and writhes to present more itchy sites to my fingernails.
Tiger she is, and I her plaything. She's the boss and I her serf. She's the favored child and I her playground. My cat's companion and I, and she the queen of all she surveys.
No comments:
Post a Comment