I live with my forty-five year old son and four month old kitten. My son isn’t big on hugs. Birthdays, Mother’s day, yeah, but regular days are not meant for hugging as far as he’s concerned. He’s just not the huggy type. So, at this time of Covid isolation, I’m pretty hug-hungry.
But I get my hug fix every morning from my kitten, Jasper. Jasper has his own bedroom, complete with food, litterbox and cat toys to keep him company overnight. I can’t sleep with animals and I don’t trust him to wander around unsupervised all night. I’d probably be awakened by a big crash in the wee hours!
So every morning when I open his bedroom door, I pick him up, put him on my shoulder and give him a big, long “schnuggle” as we walk down the hallway to the living room, with him purring loudly all the way. I put on my best baby talk, tell him good morning, ask him if he slept well, if he’s ready for a brand new day (he always is!) and then he hits the deck running.
I look forward to this little ritual of ours every morning, and I’m pretty sure he enjoys it as much as I do. I hope he never outgrows it.