Originally uploaded by ctb57.
You've been content, curled upon my chest for the past 20 minutes. Sometimes purring, sometimes snoring, tail twitching as usual. I watch you - occasionally running my hand along your spine, loving the silky softness of your black fur. I love it when you allow me these times. I love it when you use me as your bed, stretching out with your head on my shoulder. I love that you trust me enough to nuzzle with me . . . communicating that way that cats have.

I'm grateful that you chose me that day so long ago when you literally jumped into my arms. You were such a bitch, but I knew that you had made your choice. I didn't even know your name. The woman who ran the shelter didn't know - your previous owner was so distraught that she couldn't [or wouldn't] leave your name. Even so, by the time we were half way home, I knew you would be Sheba, and how it fits. Sometimes, though not as often now that you are the only one left, I even call you Shebitch because you are. When you gaze up at me with that pixie face and those green eyes, my heart melts, and someday, I AM going to succeed at counting all your whiskers. It's said that cats are good for helping to lower high blood pressure. I don't know that it's true, but I do know that when you curl up with me and begin your quiet snores everything is good and fine. I like knowing where you are by the jangle of the pentacle on your collar. I like when we have conversations, and I know what we are talking about. I like that you let me live with you. Love yah, Sheeb.


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2:40 PM  

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