Love is picking up your cat, tipping him upside down, listening to him purr and watching him pump his little legs like he's riding a bike because the act of you holding him is ecstasy.
Love is having him lick the salt off your face when you've been crying*, then watching him go pfft, pfft with his tongue, trying to spit the taste out because he accidentally got some of your expensive moisturizing lotion. But still coming back for more.
Love is having him sit as close as possible to you without caring about whether you've put on weight, instead embracing the fact that there is more lap to go around.
Love is him waking up the instant you use the "come here' voice, making a beeline for you and being thrilled that you called. No complaints about being disturbed and ordered to do something. Just huge excitement.
Love is him turning around 1000 times on my lap before getting comfortable because he thinks he's in it for the long haul and wants to get his spot just right.
Love is having him look adoringly at my face regardless of wrinkles or age**.
Love is your cat sprinting to meet you the instant you open the door but playing it cool on alternate days so you don't get a fat head or over estimate your importance.
Love is being welcomed home by your cat after leaving them for a week while you went on vacation. With no recriminations. And not even complaining when they accidentally got stowed away with the luggage after the unpacking***.
Love is having him help with the laundry by lying all over it. But only when it's clean****.
Love is being greeted the instant you step out of the shower by winding around your legs until they are covered in black hairs. Actually this isn't love, this is just annoying.
Love is hiding under the couch when a burglar comes but hissing and lunging at small children that visit. Wait. Not love. This is erratic, unexplainable behavior.
Love is ignoring the cat lady jokes that are sure to follow...and by love I mean, I will not scratch***** anyone's eyes out for making such comments, because the new me loves everyone. Mostly. Except for some of you.
*Not me because I don't cry. I'm too brave. And crying is for girls.
**He has poor eyesight. Also, only one eye. So doesn't really have a leg to stand on when it comes to criticism. And just to be clear, he has all his legs. I'm only responsible for the eye.
***Not really my fault - he climbed in when I wasn't looking and I got him out as soon as I heard the crying from the closet. Possibly, he was making a point. At the wrong end of the journey.
****The fact that I didn't yell (Much. For very long) at him shows I love him. This is a reverse love example.
*****Pun intended
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