warm and fuzzy

The New Girl wrote a brilliant post about this a while back – how once you have a baby, your Pets, your furry babies, become just, you know, your pets.

I was thinking about this last night as Fergus and I had a very nice little love session involving many purdles and pajama-pants-tastic jumps to reach my fingers for nuzzling. The past few weeks have been a little challenging for me, and some serious Cat Time seemed in order. These two cats have been my bosom companions for nine years. They haven’t done anything to warrant the downsizing of their Whimsy household roles.

Last night I stared at Fergus’ face – looked close enough to see the tiny short fringes of actual eyelashes that shield his beautiful green eyes (not the long whisker eyebrows that cats have – what are those things?).

The cats have no idea what’s in store for them, once The Bean gets here. I know that there are things that will change that are beyond my control: there will be New Noises, there will be New Smells, there will be some High Intensity Sleeplessness, there will be Furniture That They Cannot Sleep In or On. I hope that in one respect, I will be able to give the cats some consistency: I will love them with all my heart – love them from the top of their furry ears to the tips of their swishy tails.

I can only hope that this will be enough to get them through the changes to come. I promised Fergus this much last night, as we whispered the things you can only tell a cat.