maxwell is my kitten. he's growing up-- in his teenage years , vacillating between completely crazed and completely sweet. he's like a little engine- always purring. he's like me: he gets happy when he eats. you can tell because as soon as you bring out his food, he purrs. he fears nothing, with the exception of my hair dryer.
i often wonder what is going on in his little head. he's so curious, and i try to remember having that kind of curiosity about the world around me. when i was little, my mom said i did nothing but point at things, everything, and ask "what's that?"
sometimes, when i think of it, i look around and there is much to wonder at: people, also thinking a thousand things in ways completely unique to themselves, the complexity of things growing and blooming, gravity and laughter and breathing and how maxwell purrs as he lays on my stomach.
time to start the day with coffee.