El Gatito chiquitito pulls at the roots of my hair with very sharp teeth, preens me like a lovestruck parrot. Thrice tugged, my beleagered scalp relinquishes three hairs. Precisely what he needs! El Gatito chiquitito suffers from a protein deficiency. Three are missing from his brain and mine obviously fake out the problem by keeping the receptors from signaling their distress, but only momentarily. The only real solution is to keep him under my head with my hair fanned out over his purry self.
I orient as prescribed, and wake an hour later (with a cat under my pillow) when my childhood love, now deaf and blinding, begs to come in. Of course I can't let him. He'll be heartbroken at my infidelity. My heart breaks.