here we are in our first-ever photo together because it’s the first time sputnik has held still long enough to have his picture taken.  notice that my paw is extended like the hand of god in michelangelo’s “creation of adam,” but as you can see, my face is not expressing the same hope and pride that the face of god does.  in simple, straightforward language, my face is saying, “be still for one second, you little fart, or the claws that go with that paw will be put to good use.”

as it turns out, the wee one and i are getting along well.  his favorite game is “jump on bob,” which turns into chase, capture, wrestle, and every now and then, intervention by the gal.

she worries that the kid is too small for such rough play, but i think he can take more than she knows.  after all, he starts every bout.  here’s the funny thing:  we were all in bed the other night and i heard a tiny noise coming from spork.  it wasn’t his purr; that motor is on 24/7.  it was the sound of him rumpling the covers with his paws.  he was flexing first one paw and then the other in a motion that looked like he was kneading bread.  and then i heard the same sound near me.  i looked at my own paws and they were doing that kneading thing, too.  we were making biscuits, which in all my days i had never done before.  it felt right.  it felt good.  it felt like we’re a family.  purr, y’all.