I am sitting mostly by the window tonight, watching the snow fall down, like soft strands of my fluffy white fur. I suppose the snow is often quite like my fur, as it covers everything and makes it somehow all seem happy and new, touched by the grace of something which may no longer be present but rings of happiness and comfort.
But in general I have moved towards sitting here, on the threshold between the kitchen and the living room and, more importantly, between cool and refreshing and warm and relaxing. I am such a kozy kitten (one who absolutely adores purr-poseful quaint misspellings), you see, that I have diverse and fascinating ways of being comfy. I contain multiples. I love the cool smooth shinyness of the kitchen floor, both for slide-based scampering and for the rush as it lightly chills my fur. At the same time, keeping my tummy pressed against the carpet makes me meow with contentment. Especially when the weather outside turns frighful, we all need a Hippo, who is, of course, so delightful.
Thankfully, Katie and Baxter have taught me a debate trick that solves this dilemma: the PURRmutation!!!
Purrs and Smooches,
Hippo
