Yes, I should have been finishing up my article about Moving with Outdoor Cats…yes, I should have been cleaning up my kitchen which looked like a war zone or going with Mike to his umpty-dozenth doctor visit or chasing the dust bunnies under the bed, but instead I stayed in the middle of the floor snuggling with Chandler Kitty.

There is nothing better in my book then snuggling with a young kitten. This is the first time he has allowed me the privilege of picking him up farther than a few inches. He is now 10 weeks old. This little black kitty with such warm paws, snuggling under my chin and turning on his charm and his purr motor.

He made biscuits in the palm of my hand and even though I winced once or twice (kitty claws are sharp little things) I just let him mark me. His warmth against my neck, his purr vibrating against my chest cemented the feeling that all is good and solid in the world when you have a kitty to snuggle with and tell you that they finally trust you, therefore; you must be a pretty good egg.