When they moved away for a year, Schmoo took up with me, in protest against her sister cat (a little bully) and the house-sitter's dog. She loved my deck, where she could be found any time of day and night.
When my friend Betsy visited, Schmoo sat on her welcome lap in morning sun, purred, and drooled.
RIP, Schmoo.
1 comment:
Thank you so much. Very nice. I'm going to try to figure out how to send it to Elizabeth, who was in tears. We'll have a burial service in June when I'm back for Shakerag. Come on down...
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