Wearing Red

I’m wearing red today. Sort of because it’s Valentine’s Day and I suppose I ought to do something to acknowledge that fact.

I am loved, in a hairy kind of way. This morning, Guinness walked over my sleeping form and wedged himself on my right side where he purred his gratitude for my drowsy strokes. Several minutes later, Herbie showed up – walking, like his brother, over my no-longer-sleeping form. When he figured out there was no room on my right side, he snuggled close to my left side. I was pinned by purring felines. There was, literally, no way for me to move without dislodging a cat.

For a while, it was quite pleasant. But the clock’s hands kept moving and my bodily functions began signaling their needs to function. Being a cat sandwich was getting uncomfortable.

I freed an arm and tried to entice movement with one of the cat toys on the bed. They seemed appreciative, but unmoved.

Finally, Guinness stood. And I stood and proceeded to the bathroom. Herbie stayed snuggled on the comforter.

So I wore a red turtleneck for Valentine’s Day but tempered it by also donning a plaid shirt. Everyone knows there is nothing romantic about plaid.

It was the best compromise I could come up. And now both turtleneck and shirt are strewn with cat hair.

Ah well.