Postcards from Home #10: FUR

I want to introduce to you the most important man in my life, the lover who waits for me at home, the guy who will never leave me, my dark knight of hearts, my midnight angel, the boy who I can always count on… but hold your heart close to your chest, because he will surely steal yours away, too. My love has been known to soften the hardest of hearts, turn the coldest of people into mush, and make those already weakened by cuteness even more into blubbering fools. He is one of the reasons why staying home is so inviting. He would make you want to stay here, too.

His ears are petals of silk
flickering black triangles
picking out every sound
the slightest touch
sends him
all four limbs leaping
with joy
he lands on me
his fur a pillowing cloud
in my face
his breath — sighs of delight
his paws tiny beans padding at me
he makes a nest out of my breast
his every move smooth as milk
he bats me down, tenderizes the flesh
his every cry chirps of praise
purr accompanied with a mew
telling me to stop, be a bed
he is full-bullied, round of cheek
a pudding pot of darkest chocolate
coating every comfort spot soft
his whole body soothes the tear-chapped cheek
he hugs me back into giggles
licks at my tears, tickles me dry
his snow-white nails carve me a cat-scratch necklace
I wear his love proudly
and carry him, my benign tumor
fourteen pounds of baby fat fur
curled up into a ball clenched
with devotion
and
we
are
in
love

Whenever I am home without a friend to talk to, I am reminded I am never alone. Mr. Snuggles is always home to lend his fur, his warmth, his feline embrace.  His fur has a scent that is like no other.  It is the scent of being alive. Not like the scent of dead fur on a fur coat or the plasticky-static stink of synthetic fur.  Living cat fur breathes, has a slight sugary-bleach note to it from the natural anti-septic in his saliva, his sharp musk diluted with the oils from my hands and sweat from my body, strong hints of fresh laundry because he likes to retreat into the closet, notes of ozone from all the time he spends at the window, leather from the living room couch, with a little bit of dust.  His entire coat is saturated with all the smells of home.  Even my own personal blend of perfume that stays on my clothes, and the incense I burn in ritual prayer, spices from cooking, and the cool smell of my bedroom blankets tends to stick on my cat’s fur.  After I come home from a long day, or long trip, he is the first thing I smell.  I breathe him in deeply and I truly know I am home.  Mr. Snuggles is home.

If you were here right now, you would experience it.  He would make you feel at home, too.  Home is all in his fur.

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3 thoughts on “Postcards from Home #10: FUR

  1. Yay, Mr. Snuggles! I love burying my nose in and inhaling my cat’s fur too, she has always had the warmest, comforting scent. 🙂

    1. 🙂 It’s one of the greatest pleasures of having a cat at home. I love inhaling Mr. Snuggles. He’s got a wonderful perfume! It’s whenever he doesn’t smell good is when I know he’s not feeling good, too. I’m grateful for a sensitive sense of smell. When he was deathly ill back in 2009, I could smell the sickly sweet acid-y smell of his infection. I’m happy to say he hasn’t smelled like that at all since!

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