Purring Commas

I get those happy, yummy feelings when my cats are curled up together on the bed, like purring commas.

"Careful," a friend says. "You don't want to end up that crazy old woman at the end of the block with the big house full of cats."

Ha ha ha. Of course not.

Well, wait. Why not? A house full of cats? That's cool. As long as you can have some kittens once in a while, too.

That's how you get a house full of cats, see, by bringing in kittens. Just once in a while.

Kittens are a strong, strong juju. When I get a kitten, within months I've had all the kitten juice I need for oh years to come. Of course, the kitten still has juice. Plenty. That's where the parental love thing comes in. You love them SO much that you don't... don't!... rip their darling little heads off when they bounce across the bed at 3am, 4am, and 5am, chasing specs of dust raised by your breath as you sleep. Slept.

And in time they grow up, mellowing oh so slowly. Eventually they settle down and sleep the night through. Together, if you're lucky, curled up, pettable and purring, giving you that yummy awww feeling that only comes after you're years past the will-not-rip-head-off-kitten phase. The love only a real cat person knows. The person who becomes that crazy old woman with the cats.

Purring commas. Awww.