She is my love slut.
Nearly any time I sit down in the chair in my den she is soon in my lap. Especially if I have the Mexican blanket across my legs. It's getting too warm now for the blanket but still she comes.
She is my lover.

Does he love me as I do him?
I wonder, too. What does a cat think? Does it think like we, as humans, do? Does it SEE, as we .. like humans..do. I have heard not. I wonder, as she lies upside down, staring at me, what she sees.
I wonder . . . does she love me as I think she does?

I have always defended Jazz. I think she is beautiful. Perhaps she has heard me and appreciates my love for her. She has seemed to me for these few years to have responded with love for me.
My sweet Jazz.
My love.