Casey and I 

Casey and I are having a nice Friday evening together.  A little Hanks-Ryan rom-com a la You’ve Got Mail, a little dinner, a little something to drink ….

Casey is my sister’s cat. I thought I should get there before I mentioned the petting that’s also going on. 

Also, we’re both drinking water. I’m not getting either of us tipsy.

Casey is more on her own of late than she is used to, even for a cat. She gets her basics covered and some loving care in brief visits but tonight she has me. I’m here expressly for the purpose of being company for her.

She is a little love, this pretty calico, following me around at first and underfoot to demand my undivided attention, as a cat will. When I sat she jumped up and sprawled and rolled onto me and purred happiness and threw cat butt at me and basically made herself so happy that she sort of lolled herself backwards right off the couch.

Skittish thing that she is, that threw her for a bit but she stuck around, this time at ground level, for some more loving until she’d temporarily gotten her fill.

Now she’s all stretched out on the other side of my sister’s coffee table, looking around, entertaining herself, occasionally looking over at me contentedly, knowing I’m right here in case she needs something.

Or if I stop paying sufficient attention.

Which I’m not, while I’m writing this. And she’s noticed. Cuz here she comes now.

Gotta go. Back to my date. 

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