Pussyfoots

Day 54: People look at me in disbelief when I tell them Merry's fingers are as big around as my own, but here's visual proof. In fact, I think he'd probably wear a size larger thimble than I do because of the depth of his pads. That said, that's a soft little hand holding mine, and unlike most cats, he likes the contact. When he sleeps in my lap, one of my hands is supposed to support at least one (if not both) back feet while the other rests on his shoulder. No, I don't get a lot done in that configuration, but what's more important? A project I'm going to give away when it's done, or the love of a precious, trusting pussycat? As for Carl Sandburg's fog coming in on little cat feet, that line of poetry tells me that Sandburg never owned a cat. A herd of stampeding elephants makes less noise than four little cat feet chasing a toy at 3 AM.