...and the rest of my clowder (the FeLV- ones).
Harley seemed a little depressed after breakfast. Maybe just mad at me
for giving him the clavamox after? I was on the lounge chair, with
Brock on my lap. Jealous of Brock? We all just lounged around for a
while, then I glanced over at a catnip carrot, with a long bootlace
attached. I flicked the bootlace over the top of Harley's head, and
slowly dragged it back towards me. The game was on! Harley always likes
to play after breakfast or dinner, but he plays hard - leaping, zooming,
skidding across the floor. I thought that wasn't a good idea due to his
heart, and his needing rest after his long ordeal. So we modified the
routine a bit, and I just pulled the bootlace around the cot (full-sized
deluxe cot for humans that has Harley's sleeping bag w/heat pad on top
of a folded comforter). Harley began to purr as he grabbed the bootlace
and we played tug-of-war. Eventually he was within reach, and I petted
him and skritched his chest, and he began wrestling with my hand. And
purred even louder.
Best. Christmas. Ever.
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