Listen, I don’t want to bore you with stories like this… but this is one for the memories. Ignore it if you are anyone other than me reading.
Situation: I’m lying in bed, doing math in my head for some reason. I’m on the threshold of sleep when I hear a sudden frantic scrambling; a clink of my potted plant possibly being knocked down onto my bed; a quick, sharp and terrified meow; then finally a thump on my mattress, where my cat lands in a canopy that’s formed near the bottom of my long brown curtains. Rico lies there in that canopy, perfectly still and quiet. So, a tiny bit concerned, as well as freaked out, I pull him out of the curtain-hammock he’s fallen into. His response is to stand stiffly on my bed, reflecting upon life for a minute, unmoving. I watch, curiously, awaiting his next move. Then, as if nothing ever happened, he hops off the bed and coughs up a ribbon-wound hairball presumably after I fall asleep, as I find it the next morning and am actually rather impressed by his talent.
I mean, the ribbons were even complementary colours, and the bow was excellently formed around the mound of hair he coughed up. Yep. That’s called a day off.
