|The Paw in action.|
I've read that outside cats will test the waters with one paw in case a new experience isn't safe. For Simon, it's the right paw, and he puts it everywhere.
It goes into the water dish first, followed, not by a test lick, oh no, but by a vigorous shake that shares the wealth. For a cat who doesn't like to have wet hands shaken at him, he can dish it out.
The Paw has shown up in my spaghetti, cereal bowl and once, my hot chocolate. I learned to eat around it because I wasn't throwing an entire dinner away for one touch. The only people food he ever truly liked was Bolthouse Farms Mocha Cappucino, and I would put his little sip into a mug wide enough for his head so he didn't have to use The Paw.
The Paw is the pre-cursor to a cat fight, so that's one sign the Turtle reads quite well when she's home. She's found evidence of The Paw stuck in Caleb's back as shed nails.
The Paw has rested quietly on my cheek at 2 AM, insisting breakfast is now, not three hours from now. The claws don't come out until 4:30.
The Paw has something to say about my art projects and reading habits. Mostly "Hello, you should be paying attention to the rest of me over here. I'm far more interesting than whatever that is."
Simon Theodore, The Paw. Tomorrow, I'll tell you about Uncle Simon.