A big tiger-striped blob is stretched out on the back of the sofa in my office, her head pivoting every now and then to either look out the front window to watch for birds or to watch me. Not that I’m doing more than I usually do in my office.
But the temperature has dropped steadily for the last few days and she’s waiting for me to turn on the little space heater under my desk.
Just past her first year, she’s a huge cat, a definite two handed lift, and quite intelligent. When the heater is one, she wanders around my feet until she finds the perfect place to settle-far enough away to keep from getting scorched but close enough to get toasty warm.
Can’t believe I argued against keeping her last year. She was a rescue cat, taken in by a friend from hubby’s office, and we already had a big dog and a spoiled cat.
Now we can’t imagine not having her in our home.