Yang

Friday, November 14, 2014

She perches on my chest, but I can barely feel any weight. I stare into her light green eyes and she into mine. Her eyes look scared or perhaps sad. She begins to drool, small drops, like a single raindrop dangle a moment before falling on my shirt. I reach out to stroke her fine short hair, and the rumbling purr begins.

My Calico Cat Yang.

Yang and I

Her eyes close as she takes in the attention. Her purr volume increases. She says nothing yet says a lot. She rubs her face against my face, white whiskers cross. First the right side then the left. She’s still drooling. When she pauses marking me, I wipe the dribble away.

I make this little chirp-like sound. Slowly, her left paw reaches out. She gently pats my nose. Claws out, but the gentle touch so soft. She does this a few times before returning to the Yocat, my name for Cat Yoga, Loaf of Bread. All legs tucked in.

Patchwork splotches of white, orange and a dusky gray. We’re ready to begin our work.

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