I love that she knows and understands me. I adore
that she talks to me, despite not understanding a good deal of what she
goes on about. She’s a little crazy, I’m thinking
bipolar. One minute she’s cooing while warm and soft,
the next she’s all sinew, teeth and nails.

There are times I become olfactorily desensitized. My
affection for her is such that I’m able to tolerate
the odor of tootsie rolls that look like almond roca when
coated in litter, and the most pungent piss of any
domesticated animal. Occasionally I get a whiff when
I’m writing and I pour more sand in the shit box.

Then, some hot ass backsweat day on the drive home, I
open my front door to a bitchslap of feline excreted
ass and vagina molecules.

I mean, If I can smell that shit, hamfisted pun
intended, then I am inhaling that shit. So I put down
my shit and grab a Glad bag and some Lysol. I finish
washing the shitbox in the shower with a generous
amount of bleach. I sweep and mop the area and wash
the linens.

She herself, always smells very pleasant. “Kitty
Perfume” The Fish calls it. The Bean always smelled
delightful.

I leave newspapers on the floor of the bathroom for
her to have her way with.

I once sprung a leak and left a thin line of
catshitsand down the hall of my building. What am I
gonna do? Take the fucking Dyson out there? Are there even outlets?
Call a tech?

Having said that, I’m more than grateful she wordlessly
consented to shit and piss only in the designated shit and piss
box.

She won’t let a single rug lay flat, she’s an
attention whore, she often won’t speak to me in the
mornings. She’s shameless about pointing out that
it’s Sunday and that means Fancy Feast.

She’s an agile pain in the ass when I’m packing
luggage, she’s always up in my business when I’m
actually doing something but she’s pretty cool about
just hanging when I’m writing. She probably just
likes the quiet.

She picks my bamboo rug apart and distributes the thin
planks around the living room. She’s very funny. she
randomly gets all Halloween on me in an effort to
start a chase.

She likes to sit under things and stare/frown at me.
She rarely speaks during these episodes, when she does
it’s to admonish me.

The Bean engaged in similiar behavior but usually from
on high.

Otherwise she almost always sits facing away from me.

Her name is “The Gurry”, Girly Girl, Swirly Girl and
Girlfriend. Potempkin, Great Googely Moogely and
Fester Bester Tester. Benson & Hedges, Madame Crowley
and Mint Julip. Anyway…………….

She comes to bed with me every night and leaves as
soon
as I fall asleep.

She comes back before the sun does. I feel her nose
on my hand or my shoulder. She settles within arms
length and says a quiet hello.