It gets cold in winter, too. Find your place in the sun!
I was coming up the stairs from my basement HQ on Sunday when, as my line of sight rose above the hall landing, I beheld the baleful stares of the Four Fluffies of the Apocalypse™. I backed slowly down the stairs—and grabbed my camera from my desk drawer before creeping back up.
Bless them, they were still staring. Bask in the cold glare of their judgment:
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| From left: Jack, Mick, Otis, and Puff instruct us all on how to properly appreciate a sunny day. |
They don’t give a rip for who wins the Super Bowl, the primaries, the Powerball lottery, the Billboard charts, the Oscars, none of it. As the Great Bukowski observed, one look into a cat’s eyes tells you everything you need to know.
In this case, they’re telling me they are aware of my presence, with intention of following me into the kitchen where they will harass me without mercy until I sprinkle some token kibble into their bowls, just enough to ensure my escape back down the stairs with my coffee.
It is a pretty day, though, isn’t it?
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