Our cat and occasional guest blogger Scooter Thomas is head-over-heels in love. He asked if he could use this space to blather on about “those lips that love’s own hand did make” and other such nonsense. We have reluctantly granted his request.
Wuv. True wuv!
To quote the Bard himself, Thou art more lovely and more temperate, O Lover of My Soul. You have put a spring in my plod, added zeal to my dormancy. My feline sexuality, long ago quashed by a brutal medical procedure which I will refrain from explaining in detail here, has suddenly and abruptly stirred in this, the golden years of my life.
Who is my Sun, my Moon, my stars and sky, you ask?
About a year ago I became a member at eHarmony. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, just companionship. Maybe stimulating intellectual conversation over dinner or flirty repartee over drinks, and if she had a knack for scratching my tummy, all the better. I proceeded along this path for the better part of a year until, just the other day, I saw this.
Hubba hubba! Be still my typically lethargic heart!
The naked yearning on display here is — there is no other way to say it — hot as balls. This is a woman unhinged by desire. I find that deeply arousing. She may be a raging wildfire, threatening to engulf everything around her, yet I am irresistibly drawn to the flame.
Debbie, I am sure you have untold suitors who, like me, have been helplessly captivated by the siren song of your eHarmony video. You can hug every cat! Don’t give up on your dreams! But consider, please, just hugging me alone. I am big enough to fulfill all your cat needs. (Trust me.)
You can have me in a basket, with a bowtie, on a rainbow, however you like. I am smitten.
Let’s make it happen.