Two cats

When I awoke the other morning, there were two cats on the end of the bed.  Not my bed, but thats another story that I am not going to tell. 

There were two cats on the end of the bed  looking, as cats do, content. When they saw I was awake, they started  purring loudly. One stretched out a paw to touch my let, the other, less subtle, draped herself over me.  They were content, and happy cats, or at least looked content and happy. For all I know,  they are agitated and deluded cats, but I digress.  The LOOKED happy and content, so loathe was I to move when nature called.  I agonized over it. They were so relaxed, so trusting and calm. They had achieved an open carefree love in the shadow of my legs. With my large and protective presence they could nap contentedly, safe from concerns about dogs, hunger, the mange, or whatever cats are concerned about (if anything).  They smiled cats smiles, and purred Gatling purrs.  And my bladder ached. And I felt strong and undeniable guilt. Eventually I could take it no more, and I got up-cats springing up, and purring stopped. Then, they looked at me, settled  in, curled down and began to purr Gatling purrs again, big feline smiles.  They were  fine. It was  I was who disturbed.

Wow, what a lovely and clear mirror in cat fur.