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Silky fur sways at her belly and the light creates waves of rust and black across her back as she moves. Amber eyes blink slowly as I stare at the miniature panther who lives with me. When I lean in close, I can hear her chest vibrating, as if a tiny motor resides in her rib cage.

“Meep! Yyrrt!” she cries, begging for my attention. As soon as my hand touches her head, she dissolves into a puddle of inky silk, purring, making that rib cage motor roar with contentment. I bend my head toward her and her whiskers tickle my cheek, making me giggle. Soon, her sandpaper tongue will sneak out to attack the back of my hand. That always tickles, too.

As I get ready for bed, Indy readies herself by my pillow and as soon as the light goes off, she edges a bit closer, then closer still, until she’s purring directly into my ear. I close my eyes and as I begin to drift off to sleep, I inhale the sweet scent of her fur. It’s a strange combination of baby powder and sulfur, which is weird because I don’t have baby powder in the house and I’m almost positive Indy doesn’t play with matches.  I imagine she would taste like her personality: sweet and delicate, perhaps a little like black licorice – a delicious cat pie for dessert.

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**Today’s challenge was to paint a word picture, using all five senses. I picked Indy. Because she’s my favorite.

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