Coffee Is a Language

Woke up with a huge laundry list sprawling in front of me and a brain ardently in need of caffeine. As I slurped my coffee and she slurped her breakfast, Gracie and I blinked at each other–hello, I love you; hello, I love you–but after she finished eating she was still eying me intently and licking her chops. Then I realized why. She and I are so codependent, and I enjoy coffee so much, that she was experiencing vicarious pleasure, even envy. Sorry, permakitten; I guarantee that you’d hate it as much as I did when I was your age. (Pictured here: the author clad in a live feline fur. That’s politically correct, right?)

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy