Me Too

My cats are apartment cats, and have to take their light where they can get it--which is usually under a lightbulb.  In the summer, we get some sunlight reflected off the window of a highrise located catty-corner, but in general, sunlight is not this apartment's strength.

Here is our reflected, secondhand sun, complete with Posy soaking up her D's and Z's:

Usually, however, Posy, winter, spring, summer, and fall, will "sun" herself underneath the lamp on my table.  Like so:

Sometimes Plum will join her.  I don't think he really likes the locale so much, but he figures if she is there, he should try to take over the spot every now and then, if only to let her know who is boss.  Plum. Plum is boss.

So that is the state of affairs re my lamp and the cats.  Now let's shine the spotlight on Ms. Dorothy.  I was getting ready to go to work the other day, when I heard a strange noise coming from the living room.  It was a kind of leap and heft and scrabble.  Have you guessed?

It was Dorothy's turn to relax under the lamp on the table!

Except that it wasn't really.  For Dorothy, while only 16 pounds now, will eventually be about 55 pounds.  And a 55 pound dog on the table offends even my sensibilities.

Sorry, Dorothy!