I'm back from a couple days out of town. My cats are really happy to see me. It's nice to have them to come home to. It's actually getting hard for me to sleep through the night without a subtle sense that a twelve-pound cat (Tyrone, usually) is curled up near my feet on the corner of the bed.
I remember cuddling Tyrone in my bed the first night I brought him home from the Yuma County Humane Society. He was such a tiny kitten, and I kept reassuring him that we were going to be terrific pals once he grew up to be the beautiful adult cat I knew he was going to be. I slept very lightly that night, fearing that I would roll over and crush him.
The fact that he still likes to sleep near me is a gratifying reassurance that I was right. And so is the evident joy with which he greets my homecoming, rolling on his back and stretching and pawing at the air in the feline equivalent of a goofy grin.
Sinead gave me her typical welcome this morning before I went to work. While I was sitting on the couch putting my shoes on, she stood half on my lap and half on the ottoman, purring and simpering at me with her huge, innocent eyes. She rubbed against me and, in various kitty ways, demanded my attention. I'm very happy to have such affectionate and cheerful cats.