My job tonight as Harry and my future bro-in-law lifted, grunted and strained to get a 20th Century tv stand up a flight of 19th Century stairs, was to keep the sensory challenged siamese from getting under foot. So I scooped him up, plopped him on my chest and nuzzled his sweet little head with my chin. We stayed in this position for about five minutes before Silver decided I had soiled his fur by merely touching it with my greasy human chin. So he did that really cute thing where the cat licks their paw and then rubs it over their head and face in the most adorable fashion. Only I was really close to his face so I kept getting smacked in the cheek and face with the fast and furious paw.
In between swipes at his own noggin' (and mine) he would pause to lick his grey arm - and breathe on me. Now, I don't know how many of you have cats who are on special vet food for high blood pressure but lemmie tell you. It smells like butt. Fishy butt. So not only was I getting cold-cocked by a slimy paw every three seconds, it was followed up shortly after with a fishy butt smell that made my eyes water.
Finally I heard the crash upstairs and the shattering of glass and my dad yelling "Oops! I did that! I broke it!" so I knew it was time to go. I slowly deposited Silver into his/Dad's recliner and headed for the door.
"What broke?" I asked my husband as I gulped in the fresh outdoor air in the backyard.
"A long florescent light. Do they even have florescent lights?"
"No," I said.
"I didn't think so..." We headed home with Harry feeling good about helping his in-laws and further cementing his title as "favorite" and me, well, I just kinda smelled like fish butt.
But it all works out in the end... Right?
Silver, circa 2006!