My cats should change careers.
That is to say that if my cats had careers other than eating, beating each other and arse licking, they may want to leave the corporate world.
If they did?
They’d make damn good bakers.
Well…
They would if the bread were made from fuzzy blue poly lester.
We’ve change things up in the bedroom recently.
No, I don’t wear anti gravity boots you perverts.
We’ve added a fuzzy blue blanket and the cats just love it.
Typically they leap up on it, spread their toes and start kneading into it. As they do, they purr and suckle. It’s as though they think they’re nursing.
Either way, I’m afraid of patting them when it’s happening after hours on account of the noise. There are bylaws about mowing your lawn late at night and the sounds of bliss and contentment coming from them is nothing short of deafening.
They get so soothed by suckling and needing.
It makes me feel sad for the momma cats.
They lie there and get tiny pin like claws dug into their bellies while razor sharp kitten teeth rip their nipples to shreds.
Being soothed is a treat.
Soothing someone else?
That takes a lot of tolerance.
Thank god for the momma cats and their ability to withstand so much.
Also?
I friggin love my kitties.