Steinbeck, won’t you come outside?  I could use your fluffy tail to help Mom paint these windows.  I don’t want to get white on my regal black tail.

Hemingway, nobody is using my tail as a brush!

But look, you already have white in it.  Are you sure you haven’t been in the paint?

I haven’t been in the paint.  I’m too busy checking on all these plants that Mom brought inside.  I guess she thought they were getting lonely so she brought them in so we could keep them company.  Mom is always thinking of others.

And so ends another typical day in our household.  We each seem to do our own things and then we all gather on Mom’s bed at the end of the day.

Hemingway, don’t breathe on me…..you’ll mess my furs!