I’m sitting here with Lily, my sometimes alter-ego. Lily is my cat. She has been a gift from God from the day I got her onward. I got her in September of 2008 when she was about four months old, according to what my vet thinks, which means she was born in May of 2008.
Lily has always been a joy to have around. She follows me wherever I go in my apartment, and she fetches. I didn’t know cats did that until I got Lily. She’s so funny when she does it. Her currency is wads of paper. Sometimes she uses receipts that I bring home, and sometimes she finds pieces of paper around the house and brings them to me, expecting me to throw them for her. So I throw them, she runs after them and brings them back, then she drops them at my feet. Or sometimes she drops them in my shoe so I don’t find them until later. Only later happens hours afterwards when I’m putting my shoes on to go someplace, and I can’t put my shoe on because there’s a wad of paper stuffed in the toe~at which point I burst out laughing.
Lily does that a lot. Makes me laugh, that is.
She seems to know that making me laugh is a good thing~that my laughter means I’m pleased with her~so she does things on purpose to make me laugh. At least that’s the way it looks to me as I observe her.