A Soft Whiskered Heap

I crept past the chair leg, one silent paw at a time. Right on the floor cushion rested a tiny ball of warm fur, breathing slowly up and down? A baby cat, fast asleep. I crouched behind the hem of a draped blanket, watching the subtle twitch of its little whiskers in the morning sun. It looked so soft. Taking a quiet breath, I edged closer, stretched out one careful paw, and patted the tip of its fuzzy ear? Its ear flicked with a tiny snuffle! I darted right back beneath the wooden rungs, breathless, but it only purred and curled tighter.