You would think that as much as this cat sleeps that he doesn't cause any trouble around here. Wrong! Leather sofa and sectional, recliner, rugs, carpets - ruined. His favorite human on earth is our daughter, the cat whisperer (who also feeds him, cleans his litter box, and lets him curl up beside her every night). He sure likes the daddy of the house, too, as they play funny games every evening.
Watching him nap on our bed early each morning without a care in the world tempts me to envy his spoiled, carefree, privileged
lifestyle. Lord, please help me to always desire more than a cat's
life for myself and my kids.
Orwell continues to pretend that Muffin is a cat, for he longs for a playmate. Muffin just sits there, still as can be, as Orwell taunts, licks, cuddles, or pounces upon her. Muffin will engage him in a game of chase every now and then, but that's the extent of her playtime offerings. Even so, Orwell can't seem to get enough of her...not even willing to stop licking her when she has to use the potty.
That moment when you realize your adopted baby brother is now twice as big as you are
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