Romeo, one of our two black Mumbai cats, walks over to his brother Willy, already stretched on the carpet in front of me. Romeo, too, lies down, and nestles his head into his brother's–Willy starts grooming him, throwing one front leg around Romeo's neck to hold him steady.

In the squirming mass of black and sable, I catch flashes of Willy's pink tongue working–clearly pink against the background of black. When I focus on them, the only other colors I see are the occasional green of Willy's eyes and the gold of Romeo's, although mostly, in this process, their eyes are closed. This is all a tactile experience–fur and paws and tongues. And it's endearing and beautiful, all affection and trust.

And then Romeo comes to me, face still damp with Willy's spit, plants his rump in my lap and paws on my chest, then pushes his face into mine, sliding along my jawline, completing his morning bonding. "You are my family," he says to us. "You are my circle. I've secured us for another day."

Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.