A Love Letter

Dear Sweet Tuscany Jane,
You've been with us seven months now and oh, how you have changed our lives. Prescribed by my physician as a companion animal, you have been the very best medicine for a broad variety of hurts. And while there are some side effects (cat hair everywhere), I have found that your soft love soothes my soul like nothing else. This is my love letter to you in honor of your first birthday:

I love how you sleep all night (!!), snuggled under the covers and curled up against my chest or in my arms. You can be a bit of a bed piggie but your contented, rumbling purr chases away all the spooks lurking in the dark. I love how you join me at the computer while I type, raising your head every so often for a lingering scratch under the chin. I love that you love the most inexpensive toys: a crumpled piece of paper, a pompom, a toilet paper roll. I love how you wait curiously as I get on my hands and knees with a flashlight to dig your playthings out from underneath the couch. I love that every morning, after you have stretched out the night's snooze, you hunt me, wiggling your butt before striking sans claws, just a little love tap to let me know breakfast should be served. I love that your meows are infrequent but purposeful, as if you only speak when you have something very important to say. I promise to listen. And most of all, I love that you love me, that you seem to know when I am down, that you lend your warmth, softness, and silliness to my recovery without asking for anything in return except good food, a clean litter box, and a perfectly shaped lap.