Passed to me by the same friend who gave me the Zoom Groom.

--Fil

A Housecat's Message
-By Theresa Malizia, Cat Fancy Magazine March 2004

When I crinkle my eyes closed, I am smiling at you.

A brush against your shin is a hug, a message that says, "I love you
and
want you to smell like me."

Please know that I adore a long stroke down my back, but stop before my
tail, as that is my rudder and its momentary confinement panics me.

Know also that I love a good scratch around the ears, but detest my
feet
explored. Balance is life or death to a cat and my feet are as
important to
me as breathing.

Feel free to tickle my chin, but be gentle and do not break my
whiskers; for
me they are important tools.

If I trust you utterly, you will be allowed to stroke my belly.

Thought I can communicate silently with others of my kind, I vocalize
for
you. I will meow, hiss, yap for dinner and chirr my curiosity. I know a
single brrppp makes you laugh and slop me with a kiss.

I will tippy-toe when I'm trying to be cute. And when I sit with my
back
turned and with only one ear honed in your direction, I am not ignoring
you,
by any means; I am being coy. I love to perch, burrow, strut, and
stalk.

When I jump on the bed to be with you in the dark, it is not because I
need
to sleep. In most cases, I have been sleeping all day. I am there
because of
your warmth, your companionship, and to share the air you breathe.

I know when you are melancholy, and I will stay nearby if you are in
pain,
but I don't understand the necessity of vacuuming.

There was a time when I loved the 'other feline' in the house and have
mourned his loss with a grief unmatched.

I am always listening.

I watch you save or apply make-up out of true fascination with all
things
requiring attention to detail.

Know that I am clean and dignified, even when I am belly-up on the
windowsill in the sunshine. I can feel sheepish about my antics when
you
expose me to catnip, but I look forward to it anyway.

I crave peace.

My three favorite things are: mice in the walls, your voice on my neck,
and
the can opener.

I can slink and sidle, soothe and steal, and make myself scarce.

Know that I find you noisy, sadly fur-less, and strangely excitable
about a
single hairball, but I forgive you out of grand benevolence. I love it
when
you wrap gifts or read the newspaper. I understand the aching sweetness
of a
spring rainstorm.and a good cry.

Know that I will purr when I am hurt or frightened, as well as when I
am
content.

No, I don't clean my plate. It is instinct to leave a cache-just in
case.

Contrary to popular belief, I don't mind the vet because of the way it
smells, the other animals, the inevitable pain or the travel. Rather, I
hate
to go there in case you leave me.

So, even when I stare into the corner late at night and spook you half
to
death, or I stroll casually over your computer keyboard, or even when I
appear to barely be impressed by your rantings about work or school,
know
that I am a separate nation from you with all my borders open.

I reserve the right to certain terms and conditions, but my spirit
would be
inconsolable without you.

Live beside me