the Catchers of Birds and Mice and Hearts

So, they are here, with me, these dainty darling furry creatures, chasing colored feathers on a stick and green foam balls across the hardwood floors; with golden eyes they watch me, my every move observed, waiting should I cast a toy or wave the feathers for them to chase and pounce and kill! At night, beside me, they lay curled in balls of blue; dreaming of chasing flittering birds and catching small soft juicy mice, and they are happy and content, except when dinner is wanted! Then they ponder my every move, and study every motion of my hands, my feet, my eyes - and when I speak they lean in to see if it will be to them, to say to them, Babies! Darlings! Are you hungry now?! Do you want your mousey now? And, without a sound, they know and follow me to the cabinet where lays the storied cans of mouse, all yummy, wet and good, and when they see it, piled upon a plate and lowered to the floor where they shall eat, they are simply, deeply happy. But better yet for me they come afterwards to wash and curl and nap with me, my darling catchers of birds and mice, of foam and feathers, of hearts and minds and souls and dreams!