Most days when I come home, Maple is peering out the patio door either sensing my arrival or bird watching, jaw clicking. Or, I’ll spot her waiting on the stairs that provide a nice view out the front door. On rare occasions though, I’ll come home to silence. After hunting around, I can usually find her curled up in the linens or under the couch, a dusty hangout that she enjoys even when not hiding from guests. When it’s cold, she burrows under the sheets, the lump barely discernible. But when I ferreted her out recently, she was under the covers nestled on my pillow like a human, ensuring that it was sufficiently furry when I went to bed that night.
Other times she can’t resist a dresser drawer or the lure of an open suitcase. This is her helping me pick out what I’m going to wear in the morning and simultaneously ensuring that it will be too wrinkled to wear:
That’s all. Cute cat show over.