learning him

this evening as i typed, kai walked over and curled up in my lap. i wanted to give him a little special attention, so i stopped typing and rubbed the top of his head, lightly, using the tips of my fingers. but he ducked his head, so i stopped and tried something else. i reached beneath his chin and stroked the soft fur there...brat loves this. he'll extend his neck and push against my fingers, encouraging me to stroke harder. but kai had no reaction; instead he turned his face to the side, tucked his chin in.

in mild exasperation, i asked him aloud, "how do you like to be pet? i feel like i'm still learning you."

like driving a strange car for the first time, like learning a new lover, like moving to a new neighborhood,

you have to give yourself time to make mistakes. relish the strangeness of it. know that a week from now, or a month, or a year from now, there will be no questioning yourself. you'll know what to do and where to go. roughnesses will be rubbed smooth.

this learning, this exploration, is as much a source of joy as the sure knowledge that comes later.

i found kai's spot just now. it's that bare spot in front of his ears, with the full palm of my hand. he half-closes his eyelids; i see the white film from the corner of his eyes rise, and he holds very very still.