I Love the Way She…

Here's a change of pace from all those scammers: 

a love song for Ruby, my orange tabby cat.

I love the way she ingests:

how she tosses a mouthful of dry food on the floor, 

then nibbles one piece at a time.

how she growls if she finds her food bowl empty.

how she comes running when I pour fresh water in 

her dish.

how she sniffs the water, taps it with her paw, 

scatters it over the floor, jerks back when her 

tongue touches it.

I love the way we fight:

how she flattens her ears before she attacks me.

how she jumps on my toes when they pop out of the 

end of my jeans.

how she nips me when I cross her border, touch 

her stomach.

how she hits me—but retracts her claws—when I do 

something stupid, like blow in her face.

I love to pet her:

how she flaps her tail when I run my fingers down 

her back.

how she squeezes her eyes shut when I rub her forehead 

with my thumb.

how she curls her paws when I tell her how 

pretty she is.

how she purrs in soprano when I touch her 

unexpectedly.

how she hikes her rear end, as though 

I'm courting her.

I love the way she plays:

how she attacks my belt as though it were a snake, 

biting it, rolling on her back, tossing it, 

attacking it with four legs.

how she twists her body, unexpectedly, to capture 

her tail.

how she pounces on the slithering black-and-white 

teaser I shake before her, how she bites it, holds it—

then lets go so she can pounce again.

how she walks under my legs when I do my calf stretch.

I love the way I hear her hit the floor, dropping from her chair on her way down stairs to see me.

I love her unconventional way to open an almost closed door: standing 

on her hind legs and striking the door with her front paws.

I love it when she kneads my belly.

Oh, what a splendid cat!