I had a whole post written and ready to go for today, and it was not about Gatsby (my wonderful Maine Coon, in case you missed the post about him). But then, this afternoon, he disappeared.
Seriously, I went upstairs to brush my teeth and I couldn’t find him anywhere.
Now, Gatsby’s been known to pull the occasional vanishing act. When he was a kitten, his favorite hiding spot was tucked into the box spring under the mattress. Now that he’s older, he favors the little cubbies and crannies in our master closet.
So, I checked all the usual spots. He just wasn’t there.
And then, I heard a meow. Just a quiet one, from the vicinity of the bed.
So, where was Gatsby, then? Well…
And he’s still there. Hasn’t moved. Sleeping and purring away.
For reference, he has, for the very first time in his fifteen years of life, snuggled in under the blanket I drape over the duvet every morning so that it doesn’t get covered in fur.
I guess he got wise to my game. Cats, y’all…