I was five or six. I don't remember exactly how old, and Fatso, my blind cat, was my baby. Grandma had sewn a lavender dress for my big plastic baby doll. I didn't have the heart to tell her I didn't like the big plastic baby doll. I loved the dress which had little puffed sleeves and piping at a high waist and on a sweet white collar. It was gathered gently at the waist and a tiny pearl button closed at the back of the neck.
I remember that I played in the back yard on a sunny day. I put that dress on Fatso, my big baby kitty, threading his front legs through those sweet puffed sleeves, pulling the dress over his head. He never fought, just laid there in the grass, purring and staring into my eyes. I never buttoned the tiny pearl button, worrying about choking him. I pulled his thick mane out over the collar and smoothed it down, telling him he was my baby, my sweet furry baby, and he purred as I smoothed his fur under his lavender dress. And I laughed at his furry bloomers.
Then, I picked up my big furry baby, his back legs dangling below my knees and his front legs sticking out. I tried to be gentle as I laid him down in my doll buggy, the old style ones called prams or carriages. Then I covered him in a tiny doll blanket, pilled and gray from use, and tucked in his bottom feet. I puffed his sleeves and put his arms on top of the blanket where he let them lie.
"Pretty baby," I said and he purred a reply.
And then I took off across the bumpy lawn at a clip pushing my baby in his buggy on a sunny day.
Thank you for listening, jb
I remember that I played in the back yard on a sunny day. I put that dress on Fatso, my big baby kitty, threading his front legs through those sweet puffed sleeves, pulling the dress over his head. He never fought, just laid there in the grass, purring and staring into my eyes. I never buttoned the tiny pearl button, worrying about choking him. I pulled his thick mane out over the collar and smoothed it down, telling him he was my baby, my sweet furry baby, and he purred as I smoothed his fur under his lavender dress. And I laughed at his furry bloomers.
Then, I picked up my big furry baby, his back legs dangling below my knees and his front legs sticking out. I tried to be gentle as I laid him down in my doll buggy, the old style ones called prams or carriages. Then I covered him in a tiny doll blanket, pilled and gray from use, and tucked in his bottom feet. I puffed his sleeves and put his arms on top of the blanket where he let them lie.
"Pretty baby," I said and he purred a reply.
And then I took off across the bumpy lawn at a clip pushing my baby in his buggy on a sunny day.
Thank you for listening, jb
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