Maia

She is content to lie adjacent to me, on the coffee table, while I sit with my feet on the floor.  But I'm too short for our chairs, and eventually I have to shift forward, lean back and cross my ankles on the corner of the desk, keyboard balanced on my knees.  She knows I am going to stay put now, and I can start counting: One Mississippi, two Mississippi . . .

By ten, she is cautiously padding across the table towards me.  One paw inquiringly placed on my shoulder.  Another near my elbow.  A curious taste of my forearm.  Then, the soft weight of her on my stomach, prodding gently, settling herself.  I look down at her half-closed eyes and say her name softly.  She leans back against my legs, her ears blocking the space bar.  A gentle rumble of contentment.

Someday we'll buy a more comfortable desk chair.  But then I will miss the moments like this.

Maia