Watching my boyfriend become the room mate of a cat has been amusing and endearing.
Maple, like all cats, is an odd little creature. She plays fetch. She yowls incessently. She sneaks into the bathtub to sit in it when it’s wet. And she likes to lick stuff. Anything smooth and flat and quite often, people skin.
She likes to come sit on us in bed, perching attentively on hip or on David’s chest. Quite cutely, sometimes she’ll reach out a paw to touch one of our faces.
And David, my sweet sweet sweet boy, he will take a hand out from underneath the covers just to give it to Maple to start licking and nipping on. That’s reason number seven hundred and twelve that I love him.