The slippers came by mail neatly stuffed in an oversize envelope. Velvety soft to the touch and adored with pom-poms, they were designed for maximum comfort. I call them A cat’s dream.
I had a cat encounter of the first kind on the street last week. There was this gray, ball-like creature sunbathing on the concrete ledge of a fence looking at me as I approached.
After capturing my full and undivided attention, the next trick the cat did was to dance around my leg. Then it paused to look up at me. A second later I'd find myself stroking it, at which point I realized that I am not a cat person. “I am not a cat person,” I told the cat. It ignored me. It then promptly repeated the experiment by performing its eel-like moves again and posed -- as if for a camera. “Wow. What a show. I must be special,” I thought as I left.