About a year ago, I had an idea to get a basket to hold my magazines. 30 seconds after I brought one home, Himself appropriated the basket for himself. I've never gotten it back.
This is the view to my left, when I sit in my favorite chair. If I want to know where the cat is, I look for the ears.
They're also a good indication of his mood.
Most of the time, when he's just chillin', the ears point forward.
If a dog walks by, the ears twitch and temporarily point towards the back.
If Himself is particularly cranky, the ears do a very good impression of jet plane wings.
When he's feeling playful, the ears will hover above the basket with little to no movement. Then, when the poodle walks by, a white paw will whip out at warp speed and swipe past the topknot before disappearing again. The ears never move, and poor Tula doesn't know what hit her.
The look on her face is the reason why I don't mind finding someplace else to store my magazines.
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