Shades of Cat
Her hot breath radiates warmth on my cool skin. My large hands gently stroke her soft back and she arches in appreciation. With soft strokes, she gently kneads my stomach careful not to nick me with her sword-like nails. With a look of satisfaction on her face, her large green eyes begin to close, heavy like they are made of lead. Soon a puddle of drool drips slowly from the corner of her mouth forming a small lake on the front of my shirt. A soft noise begins to float into the air coming from deep inside her. As the intensity begins to increase she suddenly springs off my chest. As she hits the ground, it trembles as if it were made of Jell-O. White specks fall down from her loose, grey hair. Fat dangling from her sides swaying back in forth in the air like a pendulum. This is my beloved cat Mama Sween.
Mama Sween’s head is dwarfed in comparison to her plumped oversized belly. Her large moon shaped eyes are the color of jade. The letter “M” springs between her eyes hinting of a possible Maine Coon heritage. Her nose seems too small for her face, surrounded with long white whiskers that twitch in the air. Mama’s mouth curves slightly upward appearing to smile, but her breath can make even the strongest man run for cover. It smells like she has eaten rotten fish for a week with a slight sweet sickening smell to it. She is covered with a mass of gray and white hair and in her younger days was quite lush. Time has not been kind to her looks and bald patches have appeared in several spots along with scabs at the lower part of her back. Mama’s belly is the color of wet sand and almost drags the ground as she thunders around the house. Her paw to body ratio, is that of a whale on tooth picks. It is hard to believe that such small paws can support that much weight. The muscles that surround her neck are shrinking like a slightly deflated inner tube due to daily injections of insulin. Mama’s looks maybe fading and the smell oozing from her body increasing, however she is amazing.
Mama is the ultimate ninja, attacking with precision as she protects her territory, the living room couch. With stealth like moves she attacks legs only to disappear before the next attack. Considering her size and age she is pretty agile. She spends twenty or more hours perched on her throne until the sound of a bag opening in the kitchen causes her to launch her body off the couch in search of something to fill her belly.
At the end of a long day as I stretch out on the living room couch, a familiar body appears like an old friend. I don’t mind the smell or the white flakes of dry skins as it falls on my shirt. Mama Sween is like an old smelly teddy bear that is torn-up and smells horrible, but a teddy bear none the less and that is why I love her.
Mama Sween’s head is dwarfed in comparison to her plumped oversized belly. Her large moon shaped eyes are the color of jade. The letter “M” springs between her eyes hinting of a possible Maine Coon heritage. Her nose seems too small for her face, surrounded with long white whiskers that twitch in the air. Mama’s mouth curves slightly upward appearing to smile, but her breath can make even the strongest man run for cover. It smells like she has eaten rotten fish for a week with a slight sweet sickening smell to it. She is covered with a mass of gray and white hair and in her younger days was quite lush. Time has not been kind to her looks and bald patches have appeared in several spots along with scabs at the lower part of her back. Mama’s belly is the color of wet sand and almost drags the ground as she thunders around the house. Her paw to body ratio, is that of a whale on tooth picks. It is hard to believe that such small paws can support that much weight. The muscles that surround her neck are shrinking like a slightly deflated inner tube due to daily injections of insulin. Mama’s looks maybe fading and the smell oozing from her body increasing, however she is amazing.
Mama is the ultimate ninja, attacking with precision as she protects her territory, the living room couch. With stealth like moves she attacks legs only to disappear before the next attack. Considering her size and age she is pretty agile. She spends twenty or more hours perched on her throne until the sound of a bag opening in the kitchen causes her to launch her body off the couch in search of something to fill her belly.
At the end of a long day as I stretch out on the living room couch, a familiar body appears like an old friend. I don’t mind the smell or the white flakes of dry skins as it falls on my shirt. Mama Sween is like an old smelly teddy bear that is torn-up and smells horrible, but a teddy bear none the less and that is why I love her.