She dozed upon the soft pillows, against his leg. She still felt all tingly, and his hand against her back made her feel beloved, and at home.
His touch was so nice.
It was comfortable to lie here, eyes half-shut, listening to the birds outside. They nested in the ivy that covered the building, and several of them were young, rambunctious, noisy.
And, without a doubt, warm and juicy.
She adored warm and juicy.
Both of those characteristics suggested sweet things.
Fun activities, and happy results.
She purred.
He also dozed. It had been a wonderful afternoon. Staying at home with a book, a pot of tea, and the lively company of a pussy cat.
She had earlier dug her claws into his lap, which made him yelp.
Sharp and painful, dammit. Please stop!
Wicked beast.
But she soon relaxed, and let him stroke her, before finally going limp.
She probably dreamed of the sardines she had eaten earlier.
Playfully she had rubbed against his legs.
Yowling....... Feed me!
Delicious!
A spirited little creature, smaller than most house cats.
The fierce silken-furred huntress, on the prowl.
Those tinned fish didn't stand a chance.
Later he would have another hot cup of tea.
And feed her some more seafood.
Salty, oily, delicious.
She very rarely ate mice. After catching one, she would bat it back and forth a while, till it was too tired to run. Whereupon she would lose interest, and wander off, leaving her plaything to quiver by itself, panicked and rigid. A warm vibrating mess.
Eventually the rodent would recover from the ordeal - there had been no claws, those were reserved for laps and thighs - and scurry off wondering what had happened.
Possibly it was always the same mouse. Or mice.
Sometimes felines are creatures of habit.
Given to fits of constancy.
Familiar routines.
It was time for a bath. How does one get a cat to stay asleep?
She followed him in, and waited outside the curtain.
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1 comment:
Multo miaow!
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