Ginger is struggling, like his big brother or Fred Astaire have struggled before him, to remember which is up and and which is down.
Or, he was doing some late night filing for me and then collapsed in front of the cabinet in exhaustion.
Tiggy is, as always, very daintily sitting on the couch, patiently awaiting chest rubs.
(And, yes, that is my basket of winter accessories behind her, waiting to be sorted through before the season begins. I'm kind of over summer.)
Pickles is passed out in the donut, absolutely too sleepy to even notice me.
Of course, if he wasn't up all night running around like a wild thing he might not be so exhausted. But then again, maybe cultivating those ridiculous curly fronds of fur between his toes drains all his energy.
And, Woody? Well, Woody is right near my pillow.
Where else would my best buddy in the entire world be?
Of course, the reason I was wide awake at 6:45 a.m. might also be that my kitty guy was purring loudly (and with his chest woes, trust me: LOUDLY) near my head. But the sound of his happiness is definitely worth it. I can't think of a better way to wake up. Although I can think of a better time. 7:30, for example.
P.S. Yes, my pillow is on the mattress on the floor. My guy is still having mobility issues, and we both sleep better if he's free but there's nowhere to fall off.