Inside The Box... Piggy’s Story

She spins,... bare toes gripping the laminated kitchen floor. There’s no relief from the things running through her head, she can’t spin fast enough it seems. I watch her dance and wait until she notices me, because she will. She can’t help it because we are bonded.

When she finally comes to a stop she sees me on the counter waiting and She laughs at me, telling me my tooth is hanging out and She can see me smiling at her. She knows me. After eight years together I expect nothing less. I just keep grinning because her teeth all hang out when She smiles back and I think it’s amusing. I wait until She’s close and paying attention before I jump on her shoulder, my 19 pounds settle themselves into the right spots. I press my face against hers and nuzzle her under her chin while She wraps an arm around me for support because my butt droops and throws us off balance if She doesn’t. I am her baby and I feel safe riding the tiny woman I love.

We walk up the steep stairs never losing balance and sit on the bed, her arm starting to droop. She’ll talk to me, tell me stories of Baby Piggy,.. a small black cat who lived outside once upon a time. The kiss falls on my bald patch, just between my ears at the back of my head when the story starts.

I kiss her back, wash away old tears and purr while She talks.

Something in the back of my head about the story is familiar. The saving of a half scalped semi feral kitten, his early months spent in a cage wearing hand made t-shirts with duck tape collars to keep toes from the wound,... all a little fur raising and filled with adventures. It’s a good story because they do fall in love and live happily ever after.

Her long fur dangles down and tickles my ear,... it happens all the time and She always says sorry. She’s been quiet lately and the airs in the house prickle me slightly with a sense of something off. My purpose in life is to stay beside her,... or on top if space allows as much as possible. I curl up in our fuzzy blankets and wait for her when She leaves but for the last hundred naps or so we’ve shared the blanket pile together. There’s been no leaving, no sliding of the clear door to the patio. Instead we spend time with our heads together watching and listening to the birds outside through the bedroom window. Under the noise of the birds the air is different and quiet there too but the sun on my black fur overpowers the prickling and I’m so content to be with my girl I just close my eyes. I like all this together time.

A noise in the hall interrupts us and we both look up to see the other girl. They both show all their teeth and mine hangs out in response because I know what's coming next and my body explodes with noisy vibrations and good feels.

We didn’t have a second girl before, at least not until the last while. I wasn’t sure if I wanted one but nobody asked and if they did I’d just ignore them anyway. I have a vague furry memory of a trip in a box to a new big box of rooms, a complete upending of my lives and a lot of crossing my legs while I found my way to the litter tray. Along with the changes came my second girl, complete with long fur and hands with fingernails. I adopted her right away because she seemed so familiar though I took some time before I allowed her to touch the belly furs. I suspect my girls are litter mates or at least related to each other.

It’s part of our routine now to gather on the big bed where I can properly lay on my back with my head in my girl’s hand and have her massage the bald spot while my other girl touches the belly furs. I kiss them in turns and vibrate the bed with my purring. They laugh and tease me and ask if I want a rookie when I know they mean cookie. I play stupid because I’d rather have the four hands and tons of kisses than a dried up piece of cookie,... besides cookies give me gassy innards.

I know all the words, all my names,... I am Handsome, a Very Big Boy, Honeyboy, a Good Boy. I am beautiful and black. A baby kitten.

And I know I love you. She says it all the time and I feel it too.

My toes curl, kneading air until I open my green eyes and see the teeth and long furs directly above me. I reach up and gently pull that face down so I can kiss Her, the nails catch the furs and bring Her close. When the hands on the belly finally pull away I’m forced to stop what I'm doing to see what the problem is. It seems the cuddles are over for now. The girls have stopped the required massage and I find myself on my back with my legs splayed unable to move. Rookies and cookies are starting to seem like a good idea.

Like a good girl She reads my mind and feels about for the bag in the basket beside the bed. I’m right there to help open the package and my belly rumbles when I get the first fragrant whiff. She gives me a few before we start the game and though I hate to leave the good smells in her hand I hop down,... gracefully of course, and wait. She places the first cookierookie on the bed and curls her fingers and my body tenses. A finger pulls back behind the delectable piece and prepares to flick, I give it my full attention.

Ready?

That’s my cue and as the word ends in the air the cookierookienookie shoots through space and I hit it straight out of the proverbial ballpark with my big hairy mitt sending it into the hall. I love the game and I forget all the hands and cuddles while I chase the nugget and chomp it down fast before I turn and see the next on the bed behind the curled finger.

Ready?

Oh yeah, I am. I’m just as fast as the Baby Piggy was, maybe faster.

The big clear sliding door stays closed to the world outside and yet I can still see busy squirrels in the trees or garden. Trees shift in the breeze but nothing moves on the streets. The stillness leaks in through windows left open to let in the birdsong but our own quiet happiness mixes in and dilutes it. My girls can stay inside with me while I teach them the art of cat napping and how nothing matters more than food and cuddles, games and kisses, flashing teeth, dancing, and hearing I love you Baby Piggy. If She leaves one room I can find her quickly in the next one or down the stairs and dancing, bare toes on the floor while she cooks and sings. I’ll simply wait until She stops and sees me smiling at her because I’m Ready for all the attention that comes next. I’m a very Happy Boy in this box with my girls.