True Love

Like star cross'd lovers, they stood, nose to nose with nothing separating them, save for everything.

Yes, the truth has come out, my baby cat is in love. He is in love with a strikingly beautiful (well, she'd have to be, wouldn't she) she-cat, with long white hair, big eyes, fluffy tail. Very well groomed, buxom; robust. She's a healthy one. When Simon left the window sill, she let loose a pitiful yet delicate cry, and he went running back, tail straight up, purring.

Ah, true love. And I stand between them, refusing to open the screen and allow them to roam freely through the fields of their love. I don't know where she's been, and he is my baby cat, too sweet and innocent for the wide wild world. And he is still capable of performing, if you get my meaning. There's that, too. We haven't broached the safe sex topic yet with the vet.

But it does my heart good to see the bond, nonetheless. Love against all odds. Romance reigns supreme.