Sunday, May 3, 2009
A Cosmic Kind of Love
I love Cosmo. I'll even tolerate his drippy, drool-spigot of a mouth that soaks my clothing because when he looks at me he may as well have those cartoon hearts pulsing in his eyes. Never mind that I can't spend more than three minutes behind a closed door in the bathroom before he's desperately hammering away at the door. It makes no difference that his high-pitched mews slice my sleep at 4:30am. I could care less that he wants to park his fuzzy butt in the most awkward spots on the bed at night, causing me to twist my body into positions that would challenge even Gumby. Why do I endure these quirks that might drive someone else to toss out the whole kitten caboodle? He's the only cat that's ever claimed me for their very own. I'm elated that he enjoys being held like a baby and melts into my shoulder, his body buzzing with purrs and drooling like a deliriously happy baby. I am over-the-moon, smitten with this kitty cat. And maybe it sounds a little selfish, but I love that he adores me better than anyone else in his furry, drippy little world.