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Today the little cat just cried and cried until I sat down and let her settle in. She’s such a sweet little thing. A lilac point Siamese who is now 13 years old. She runs the place, or likes to think she does.

Maybe it is really that I like to think I do. Maybe she really does run the place. After all, she never fixes a meal, cleans anything other than herself, lazes about all day looking for a spot of sun. Her litter box is cleaned, food and water appear, and basically, I cuddle her on demand. It sounds more and more like she does run the place. Then again, we leave her whether she wants it or not. We feed her the same food every day – hypoallergenic, yuck. We play when it suits us, we push her around as it suits us. And yet she comes back and cuddles and purrs. You can’t help but love that little face.

I’m thankful for such an example of loving unconditionally. For a good book and for friends to tell my secrets to. Friends like Kimber and Jan and Yvonne.

Hope you have someone (or something) to snuggle with and tell your secrets to.

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