If there were to be a universal sound depicting peace, I would surely vote for the purr. ~Barbara L. Diamond
Every night as I am making our bed, Remington P. Cat climbs under the blanket while I am tucking it in. When I am finished, I go to the head of the bed, lift the blanket and say “peek–boo” to Remi, who meows sweetly at me and comes walking out from under the blanket. After his nightly performance, he waits patiently as I finish the bed, knowing full well that he will be rewarded for his efforts. He meows at me until I remove a certain bag from the cupboard, and then devours his treats with reckless abandon.
In the morning, it is much the same. Only instead of our usual game of “peek-a-boo,” he becomes a paper weight. Or, more accurately, a blanket weight. He is so proud of his ability to make me scoot him all over the bed in order to make it, that he waits patiently until I reach for his treat bag once again.
To many people, he may appear to be just another spoiled cat. But to me, he is just about the best cat there ever was. This rather large bundle of fur melts my heart. It was 14 years ago today that Rob took me to the Humane Society in Missoula, Montana to pick out a cat. “Crosby” was a 2-year old who was in the “cats with colds” room, trying to get over the sniffles. Once we met him, though, we knew that he would be going home with us.
Time, as always, has flown by and today we are celebrating Remington P. Cat’s 16th birthday. He is just as strong and youthful as ever, but he is sleeping much more these days and he always wants to be on someone’s lap. I find myself looking at his sweet face and being so very thankful for all the wonderful years he has shared with us, and very selfishly hoping that they will continue forever…
Happy Birthday, Sweet Boy.
Who would believe such pleasure from a wee ball o’ fur? ~Irish Saying
Are we really sure the purring is coming from the kitty and not from our very own hearts? ~Terri Guillemets