Sherry Chandler » Gray cat
Gray cat
Grey cat … strolls around the bed at night, choosing her favoured place, not under the sheet now, or on my shoulder, or on my shoulder, but in the angle behind the knees, or against the curve of the feet. Grey cat licks my face, delicately, looks briefly out of the window at the night, acknowledging tree, moon, stars, winds, or the amours of other cats from which she is now infinitely removed, then settles down. In the morning, when she wishes me to wake, she crouches on my chest and pats my face with her paw. Or, if I am on my side, she crouches looking into my face. Soft, soft touches with her paw. I open my eyes, say I don’t want to wake. I close my eyes. Cat gently pats my eyelids. Cat licks my nose. Cat starts purring, two inches from my face. Cat, then, as I lie pretending to be asleep, delicately bites my nose. I laugh and sit up. At which she bounds off my bed and streaks downstairs—to have the back door opened if it is winter, to be fed if it is summer.
— from Doris Lessing, Particularly Cats …and Rufus (Knopf, 1991)
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1 Comment
1. Tommy replies at 25th January 2008, 9:26 am :
Oh I could wish for a cat who even went so far as to snuggle. Spook has been known to curl up on the foot of my bed when it’s cold, but about the time I’m waking up she’s been up for hours and gotten so much done and she can’t believe I’m still sleeping get up you slugabed and feed. The. Cat.
I don’t know if I’ve ever shared this with you.
Love,
T
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