Sundae the cat

No matter how many times a day you look at it - this sight of her sleeping with sheer abandon, this little lump of loveliness, this picture of complete surrender and soft vulnerability - it draws you in each time, begs you to pause, makes you forget what you were doing, compels you to just sit and be, by her side, taking her in along with chipped coffee cup.

It’s not just in the unbearable cuteness that puts her in ivy league.
It’s in the energy she radiates: calming, therapeutic and otherworldly; to begin with. And then, she wakes up. That’s when it becomes all kinds of other things.

Annoying and mildly painful when she wakes me up every morning with her scratches and sharp nips. Relentless, until one of us gets up to feed her and play with her, in that strict, absolute order.
Endearing when she chooses to ‘ack-ack’, ‘trill-trill’, ‘meow-meow’ at random inanimate objects in the house: the curtains, the chairs, the walls, the mosquito mesh, the TV, the sofa, the table, as if she were scolding them to stop sitting still and play with her.

Entertaining and totally popcorn-worthy when she climbs up the curtains and ‘rope walks’ across the curtain rods, losing her footing every now and then, only to regain it immediately with lightning-fast reflexes and agility or playing with toy pickup truck.

Hilarious when she gives in to the instincts of her larger cat cousins, and dons the (unconvincing) cape of a vicious predator, deploying guerrilla warfare tactics, hiding in wait for our ankles, flinging herself at us on all fours from behind doors, lunging at our hands, meaning to shred us to bits, but succeeding in nothing more than landing her adorable, super soft paws on us, gripping our hands or feet in their tiny grasp, letting us enjoy their cool, delicate touch, along with a good, hearty laugh.

Frustrating when she ‘paws’ the litter out of her box and thwarts my every attempt to broom, squirreling about amidst the dust and litter, scattering it in every possible direction.
Astonishing when she runs to the door every time the bell rings, or when we’re headed out for a bit and she’s to be left behind, entreating us with her big, black, beady eyes, wailing her indignation at the prospect, loudly and animatedly with rare blank stare.

Outrageously cute when she launches into one of her ‘tortie-talk’ sessions, putting forth her point, solemnly, sincerely, garrulously and incomprehensibly.

Heart-warming when she burrows into my sheet, motoring her way loudly to a snuggle-worthy spot, every inch of her tiny, warm body in contact with my skin, mewling in petulant protest if I dare move an inch to give in to a more comfortable position.

Most of all, she’s loving, and giving, and affectionate, every moment of the day, filling our lives with a myriad of rich, colorful and memorable experiences.

She’s Sundae the cat and she’s just purrfect.

491 words