The handicapped can be funny

I met a rather extraordinary cat on Saturday night. I saw him coming, and had to stop to say hello. He looked at me calmly, then hopped up to where I was sitting. I offered him a strawberry but he didn't want it. With total confidence that I would not deny him, he made himself comfortable on my lap, and promptly went to sleep. With perfect trust, he dozed off, one hind leg hanging off my lap, half on his back, his paws twitching with feline dreams. When I touched a paw, he unconsciously covered his nose with it, and continued to dream. His tongue gradually slipped out, and in a moment of mischief, I tapped it with an index finger. It was withdrawn, and he smacked what for want for a better word were his lips in an entirely human fashion. I hated to wake him.
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And then there is my realization that while some people have physical tics, others have mental tics. It's like something fritzes every now and then in their brains and the short-circuit causes them to randomly and periodically commit miscellaneous blasphemies against the English language. It's weird but rather wonderful, really.
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There are times when my relationship with The Boy reminds me of them.