I placed a pillow under each leg, just under the knee, and one under my head. As usual Mom was wearing one her favorite night shirts. It was a red and...black checkered pattern of light flannel, with a low cut neckline that would always balloon open when she leaned over. She sat on the edge of the bed and began to massage my legs, doing one and then the other, from my calves to just above the knee. "Let me get more comfortable," she said as she stood up and pushed my legs apart. She climbed onto. Struggling to swallow without taking a mouthful of paste with me, I blinked my eyelids, but would not look away from the tiny little face at my feet. Cursing God for creating such a creature, I glared down at her. My eyebrows were beginning to pull together as I frowned at the cat, cursing God again, cursing the cat, cursing all cats everywhere, and finally cursing myself for caring for such a frustrating creature. This battle would not be over soon, and I feared that my ‘pet’ would win. Her. More

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