It’s not a a normal purr, sounding more like a combination of a purr and a growl and a smoker clearing their throat.
Whatever it sounds like, it’s an affirmation that he is finding some measure of contentment in his circumstances, sometimes.
The rest of the time he spends expressing his discontentment.
He starts howling and crying about 5:30 in the morning having let his vocal cords rest for just a few hours since the last round of howling and crying.
He wants out.
His catbox is not clean enough.
His dish is only half full.
He’s only had six cans of food today and he knows there’s more somewhere.
I like Miss Kitty more than I like him.
He wants out!
On and on…except…
Except now a couple of times a day when he is exhausted from yowling, he jumps up in my lap, lays down, and purrs.
The only cure for his discontent is to get as close to his master as he can.
For a few minutes all is right with his world.
Then he jumps down and begins the feline serenade from hell again.
However, the more time he spends on my lap the less time he howls afterwards.
Spending time close to me reassures him that he’s loved, he’s safe, and he’s provided for.
He decides how much time that will be…my lap is usually available.
I was petting him this morning while chewing over my own discontent.
The last few years have been an unending series of crises, great and small.
After a while, they all seem great…
I used to howl about it, but I’m weary of that too.
Then Chester asked me how much time I spend with my Father.
I think it was Chester…
I threw him off my lap.
I have to go clean the catbox.
Make your own application…