This is Mr. Lix. Mr. Hot Lix to be exact. He's got celadon green eyes with diamond shaped irises. The kind of eyes that gave those long ago marbles their names. He has a Rorsarch Test on his hind legs. He has a stub tale with a crook in it.
He has found every dust bunny, every rattling invisible thing, every scrap of anything small that can slide, scoot or skitter across the floor.
Mr. Lix flexes his paws in the air, waving hello and I am sleepy and i'm making my bed on you. He licks my fingers and scrambles away sideways when he wants to tease me. He loves velcro and his belled mousie and his little felt mice, which he has begun to carry from place to place in his mouth between bouts of pouncing and batting it about.
Mr. Lix sleeps with me, curled up in my robe to the side, rumbling like a rolling boil and kneading himself to sleep. He waits for me to wake up in the morning, then trails me from room to room as I get ready for work. He is on the bed when I come home. He cries when I leave the room without his permission.
As another cat lover said to me - "It's nice to have a friend to come home to."
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