Well, this seems to be as close to that Persian fur ball I’ve been for a while. They say nothing is more determined than a Persian on one of her hot curiosity pursuits. You leap up in the semi-opened window of my heart where you force out a squeaky, barely audible mew. Then you sit there walleyed in the rain, watching eagerly, making sure you’ve got my attention tearing me from my private little sea of thought, not to mention the shrouded ones I should'nt ought thinking. But then, as I must take notice, you've put on one of them innocent poses and naturally I must get up and let your teary rain soaked tush in the sliding transparent glass window of my life. Of course, you don’t just bounce right in but must make a couple exotic glamour turns, maybe get your motor purring as you sashay around the perimeter of my room. Wherever there’s an open window, there’s your little squeaky meow. It strikes me funny. I wonder what you’re really doing because you know my door is always open. I like the fresh air. Howbeit you still want me to get up and come over and give you a personal invite. Ha! WHAT’S UP BABY BUB-BA? I hope you know, you’re not fooling me with any of that sexy innocent sashay aura of grace about you which ironically emerges as a sweet snowy blond feline longing for any and all of my hugs & kisses. By the way, did you know it works?