Ginger cats are always possessive.
Maurice peers at me over the blanket. I pat the bed beside me and assure, “Empty. See?”
Maurice disappears. Sulking. He’ll be off to the lounge to scratch some furniture.
Tonight’s fling whispers, “Is it safe yet?”
I told Jeffrey my cats are nervous and will pee everywhere if their routine is disturbed. Then I asked him to hide in the wardrobe. He’s been in there for twenty minutes. He pokes his head out and smiles at me, thinking it’s all a game.
I like Jeffrey. I might turn this one into a Maine Coon.
A.J. NICOL lives in Australia. She likes to write short stuff. Twitter @manicol1
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The Cabinet of Heed 