This is Fey soon after I aspirated. Being worried. And purring on me. With her head resting on my chest.
I am wrapped in big patchwork quilts, Fey is curled up on my arm, I am nuzzling her head and smelling her fur, she is purring. This is everything wonderful about the world all at once.
Me and Fey. She’s purring lots. I love her. Right now she’s nuzzling her face into my forearm.
[Me and Fey with faces pressed against each other.]
She’s purring fast and, for her, loud. I can hear it out of her nose.
Cat noises I love.
The sound of purring when they stick their nose in your ear.
The sound of slight purring, heard coming from the direction of their nose, at a distance — soft and high pitched.
The sound of purring interrupted by washing themselves or eating.
The sound when they stretch and a purr gets mixed into the stretching in the same way humans sigh loudly when we stretch.
Tiny little grumbly sigh noises as they relax, shift around to make themselves comfortable, or sleep.
Any time that purring gets combined with meowing.
All the varieties of purring from one cat to another, and at different frequencies and situations. (Although I don’t really enjoy hearing that loud grating purr they get when they’re in pain, because, pain.) Especially when it sinks into your body and rumbles in there.
That exuberant sound I described as “Mimibar w’rrrrroarowaow!” and coco-beans described as “mmmmmbrrr w’rrrroarowaow”.
That little chattery noise they make when they see prey whose neck they want to bite.
The teeny little sounds they make when they talk in their sleep.
Long drawn-out complicated sounds that have to be some kinds of words.
In more pleasant news.
Fey has been sticking close to me ever since I barely noticed I was getting sick. She sits by my feet or by my head, or nuzzles my legs. She purrs audibly, which is unusual for her. Some scientists think the cat’s purr is why they heal faster than expected, and recover from injuries that “should” kill them. I don’t know if that works on bugs or just bones, but it certainly helps my mood to feel this purring reverberating all through my body. Fey has always been protective of me, more like she’s my mother than she’s my kitten.
=^_^= I wish I could take pictures of how this feels.
Fey has been cuddled up to the inside of my knees under the blanket all morning. She’s very warm and soft and purry. Except when her claws come out during repositioning or washing. And when she comes out for some reason her fur is always sleek and shiny.
A bit of Fey’s purring, taken by sticking the microphone right in front of her nose, where her putting is loudest.
Another snuggle photo. She’s been laying in the sun cuddled up to a warm air conditioner duct, so her fur is warm and has that smell that only warm cats can smell like. And she’s purring way more than usual.
[My face, facing the camera, with Fey’s head pressed up against me facing away from the camera.]
Fey does this a lot. First she buries her face in mine. At that point she’s purring in this soft way that you can only hear through her nose. Then she shifts her face around to get comfortable, along with this tiny grumbly sigh. Sometimes if you pet her she’ll make more of the grumbly sighing sounds for a bit. And then eventually all you hear is her breath whistling in and out of her nose. If she wakes up she’ll generally reposition with another grumbly sigh and go back to sleep.