Here's Joey, snoozing away in his favorite spot. There's Connie, squeezing in as close to him as she can get.
This makes me so happy. First of all, Joey is hanging out with us. If he was feeling sick, he'd be off hiding somewhere.
Second, Connie obviously likes Joe just fine. For close to 15 years, Joey lived with Charlotte, my diva girlcat. Charlotte was adorable to me, my majordomo. But Charlotte hated, hated, hated Joey. She just couldn't abide the cut of his jib. Every morning, every evening, day in, day out, she'd slap his head and steal his food. He accepted this with a grave grace, as though being mistreated by Miss Thing was just his destiny.
I know Joey doesn't have a lot of time left. But I'm glad that he gets to spend it with Connie, who enjoys his company. He deserves that.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Your cats are such people.
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