Mornings with Milo

                                                   
It's morning...very early...very quiet. He has taken up residence, sprawled out across the binding of my open book, after his usual morning ritual of reserved, but relentless, kitty-katty in your face-ness.
In my lap... face to face...nose to nose, he straddles his paws around my neck, and takes to my shoulder like a baby. He is huge, warm and soft, I feel his breath, I adore this.

When  I divert my attention to my book, the dance begins. It starts with  two paws, politely placed at the top of the page I am reading, we are head to head, I can hear him breathe. It is divine, I love this.  Of course I move him only when I need to read the next sentence, but each time I do, he slowly and subtly moves back in, bringing more of himself on every pass with expert poise and persistence.
This goes on and on until he has managed to take full ownership of my book, sprawled out across the binding, in all his regal gray and pinkness. He can not be resisted. I give up and let him stay put, often finding his company much more satisfying then the book I was reading.

I cherish my mornings with Milo. He is steadfast and a constant friend. Noble and kind, full of grace and  yes indeed, quite bookish!