Sam asleep in one of his favorite places, curled up on my legs. I took the picture a year ago but he’s in the same spot now, except today Trixie is next to him with her legs atop his.
My eyes play tricks again. There on the mantle, beside my work awards and the ashes of Templeton and Scout and Emma and pictures and keepsakes, I thought I saw Boo. But Boo isn’t allowed on the mantle. Some things from the mantle have fallen off lately and broken, likely from micro-climates creating sudden whirlwinds that come down the chimney. That I can explain, that I can see. But Boo I cannot, yet I do.
All three of our current cats are spot stealers but nobody can hold a candle to Templeton, master of the art. On this night he was recuperating from surgery so I was in the guest room with him and when I stepped out for a moment, not long enough to bother putting his cone back on, I came back to find him sitting at my laptop.