more animals
Today we had an early morning meeting for work. Cleo (and Bubba, but really, mostly Cleo) didn't care. She was all "I'm cold! Keep me warm with your body heat via the only visible part of your body which would be your face!" Yes, that's right. She's taken to walking on my face in the middle of the night. She's 18 or 19 years old. She's an old cat. No body fat. Six pounds on a good day (i.e. she hasn't barfed up a couple meals). Small, old, cranky spoiled. That's our tortie-queen Cleo. I love that cat. I really do.
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