Let’s face it – at the end of the day Mr. Oates is Maria’s cat. He loves her best.
He and I have our moments though. A key one every day is our afternoon nap.
Oates waits until he hears me pull down the blind in the bedroom. Then he rushes in meowing and hops on the bed.
He waits until I get an old comfy blanket unfolded, and as soon as I lie down and cover myself up he picks out a cozy spot just behind my knees. He’s a hot water bottle in a furry ginger tabby costume – not bad in these wintry afternoons. And so we doze off.
A catnap with an actual cat. Who could have imagined the luxury of it all?