Lucinda is singing about Lake Charles and I have a new candle burning and if Willa would just stop ... attacking/mating? the blanket I have wrapped around me, we'd be all peaceably set.
But, oh, the gatos. I'm so charmed by them. Cat-haters can just skip this post.
On to my ferocious hunting jaguar-gatos.
Yesterday, I wasn't the only brave one in the house, tackling objects or projects that required great bravery and tenacity. No. The gatos stepped right up as well.
Willa was the first, ferociously showing her multi-level kitty perch who was boss. Attacking on her back from underneath, even.
And then. Working on sleep, I hear some kind of clattering sound. I mentally shrug.
I hear it again, and think, what the hell? I raise my head, crane it over the edge of the bed to peer at the floor ... "Sucio? what -" as I blearily try to figure out the object on the ground. Then I burst out laughing.
It's one of my crazy pens. Could he be any more a writer's cat? I have a pen that, yes, has feathers attached to the end (sort of like a dust mop, I suppose, now that I think of it).
I had this thing going for awhile where folks brought me increasing crazy pens. That I would use straightfaced at work. Except I tried one time with this super giant pen, and it just kinda didn't work. Like it was really hard to write with.
Anyway, so I have some residual crazy pens. That became discovered in the oficina unearthing currently occurring (it's like an excavation! maybe we'll find a mummy!).
The very, very best part, of course, was Sucio bringing this ferocious creature he had bravely hunted to my bedside. There is just something that KILLS me, like, slays, about cats delivering little objects to me (note: once-living creatures do not EVER count! fortunately the gatos have never done this).
Willa once dropped one of her little toy mice in my backpack, and I was so insanely charmed, I don't think I ever took it out. And they have this little square bag of catnip that Sucio very quickly bonded with and would keep it with him wherever he was sleeping/hanging out -- so in the beginning when he hid all the time, I'd know where he'd spent the majority of his time. After he began getting Braver, and the couch was Mostly Not Scary, it would turn up there most mornings.
So, point here, the delivering of the pen, excuse me, ferocious beast, just melted me, really. I'm pretty sure parents have similar cute little kidlet actions they gush about, this just happens to be mine.
Let's just call it the force of love.