(no subject)
I wonder why all things get more grumpy with age. grumpy isnt a very insightful word, but i find it quite expressive. Not so much cranky, not so much tired, just grumpy. My cat Opus, lays sprawled with legs and tail closest to me. two small paws connected to small limbs arch into the air at odd angles. One eye covered by one arch, one eye looking at me over this. I look down at the expanse of his belly. (Not quite a stomach, not quite a navel, just a belly.) It is with an undertoned sense of self conciousness that an unhappy meow is emmited (from a hidden mouth). As if I could love him any less because of his appearance. His annoyance has peaked my interest. I grab one pronged up foot, pull it down and let it go, like a slot machine in vegas. It pings back up, all I win is a rueful eye. Amends need to be made. I pull my open palm across the exposed expanse, with the grain (I am trying to win back). His belly fur is not very soft (perhaps another aspect of the aged), but not uninteresting to feel, actually, quite an interest for the hand senses. Both small paws cover both eyes almost in irritation (oh please, please, let me be rid of her, will she just retire back to staring at that 90 degree L), but no such luck. tough break. The petting continues. A snort is issued out of the paws, and then the clang of a dish from a floor below. (From what I can collect) This was all too much, and he retreats to a different position just out of reach and starts to clean his toes. Do normal people love their cats this much? Is it like I should be saving this sort of affection for a boyfriend? I have thought it over and I think not. My affection for Opus is endless. My only worry is that no one will understand how upset I am when he passes away. My eyes well at the thought. Reflective purring can be heard somewhere behind the screen.