Ok. I'll admit it. I'm in love with The Englishman's cat, Squiggy. And I believe the feeling is mutual.

Regular readers of this blog may remember that I took Squiggy in last December when she was a depressed, dull-eyed, poopy mess. We've had visits to the vets, medicines administered, dietary changes and loads of TLC.

Squiggy is a new feline. It's hard to believe that nine months ago she was matted and miserable. Now her rioting bowels are purring like a kitten. Her litterbox manners are impeccable. And her coat is glossy and her eyes shiny.  Basically, life is good - for both of us.

My mom was a great cat fancier. And I grew up around more cats than dogs. But once I established my own abode, it was filled with dogs and parrots and ponies. It was surprising to realize that Squiggy is the first cat who's shared my home well over a decade.

I'd forgotten how great cats are for cuddling. So nice to have a kitty on your lap purring away as you stroke the feline's silky soft fur. Life's stresses sort of float off into space, don't they?

But Squiggy goes a bit further in the snuggling department than I seem to remember from experiences with kitties past. She pets back. When Squiggy feels I'm in the zone - as in I'm stroking her correctly, ambient air temperature is good, television isn't too loud etc. - she starts to drool a bit. She's too stoned on love to swallow. That's when I know she's really happy.

Sometimes Squiggy feels compelled to share the love. Peering deeply into my brown orbs with her grass green peepers, she'll  blink slowly. I know what this means because I used to have the t-shirt that showed the sequence. The tagline read, "Cats kiss like this."

What is different is that Squiggy also reaches out her paw and very, very, very gently pats my cheek. Or taps my lips. Pat, pat, tap, tap, blink, blink.

Squiggy offers up the kitty equivalent of XOXOXOX.