the cats are restless.

i spent the weekend in vermont- a necessary retreat from the constant melee of home-city. it makes my feline companions restless, however.

leopold is lying like a chicken on the end of my bed, legs tucked completely under him. his face is content and squished, lips curled into a cat smile, eyes squinted into slits, surveying the room. leopold has a face of grandeur- thick, black mane like a lion, whiskers for days, puffed white chest. the very ventricles of my heart swell with pride when i think of his feather-soft fur or handsome, black nose.

bippy is the cutest thing you'll ever see- dainty and sweet, petite with an under bite and large, lamp-like eyes. we went to the vet today for another alleged UTI. What a trooper my cat is- poor baby.

for a change of pace, i won't list the things i find stressful; rather the things i find beautiful

tired sighs, quiet breaths, heavy covers, dried flowers, starlight, the purr of motors, the look of content, pink noses, sandpaper tongues, dark skies, dreary nights.