cats

I've been spending a lot of time at home over the holidays, and as a direct result I spend more time playing with the cats, thinking about them, taking care of them. I've even been wounded by them: one night when I was napping on the sofa MJ and Lucy were chasing each other, and apparently my face was part of the race track (I'm almost healed now). I try to play with them so they bond with me more. In the effort to find the best cat toys, I've dug out Gwyn's old toys and bought new ones at Petsmart, which they appreciate. Their favorite toy, however, is an 8-foot-long piece of nylon string that I cut from a curtain rod.

At this moment, MJ is sitting in front of me on me desk, looking out the window.

Shelley has been spending more and more time indoors. The night before last, we let her stay in all night. She did very well. It's amazing to me how little she moves when she's inside. She sleeps and sleeps and sleeps. Our two upstairs cats are both her children (from 2 different litters) and some days it seems like they won't sit still at all.

Dolores is still hanging in there, two years after the doctors said she was dying. She lives downstairs now, where MJ and Lucy can't bother her. It's also warmer downstairs, which is good for her arthritis. She and Shelley seem to get along okay.

I'm occasionally disdainful of people who keep talking about their kids, but I'm the same way about my cats.