So, I spent last week at a teaching conference. There are more of those around this time of year than you can shake your stick at, but this one was pretty good. At least, as good as it can be when you are still coughing and hacking, but keep bumping into hotel walls trying to get to the unfamiliar sink for a cup of water at 3 a.m. Good times.
The puppy was staying with friends, thankfully, but the cats were being fed and watered once a day by someone dropping by. I’m not sure the old one noticed we were gone. But Satanspawn, the kitty trying to kill me, greeted me at the door with less than the brutal attack I was expecting. (No playmates + boredom usually means extra fang time)
No, some miracle happened. She came up to me. Purring. She NEVER purrs. Hell, she never lets you pet her.
You can maybe put your hands on her for about 15 seconds before you get bitten or swiped at for your trouble. For my husband it’s even less time. (I feed her, so I think she feels some need to let me keep my hands). But it purring? Voluntary affection?
It seems if you starve her of any real human contact for 4 days, you can actually meek out 3 minutes of sweetness. Who knew the little demon had it in her? My little heart almost burst. Pure emotion rode me in waves of sweet joy.
Of course, I’m not completely stupid.