Crenshaw

I put my arms around Crenshaw's waist and yanked. It was like hugging a huge lion. That cute purple cat of mine weighed a ton. Crenshaw dug his claws deep into the quilt my great aunt Trudy made when I was a baby. I gave up and let it go. "Look," Crenshaw said as he extracted his claws from my quilt, "I can't go until I help you. I don't make the rules"
"Then who does?"
Crenshaw stared at me with eyes like green marbles. He put his two front paws on my shoulders. He smelled like soapsuds and catnip and the ocean at night. "You do Liv," he said. "You make the rules."