So I'm in my office right now, admittedly drowning in work and emails and procrastination-fueled idiocy, and Rey is asleep on the guest bed right next to me. She's been there almost all day, as Miss Princess Tubberbutt has settled nicely into her life of leisure here. That spot allows her to come over for human attention without walking more than two steps, and lets her know the SECOND I stand up to maybe possibly head to the kitchen and put more food in her bowl.
A few minutes ago, Finn walked in, clearly stressed out as all hell. He meowed over and over at me, then came over, got up on his hind legs and started tapping my arm with his paw, like hey hey hey listen listen listen. I thought maybe he was hungry (he eats even more than Rey but of course remains a svelte silver fox, going full George Clooney while his sister will probably get cast as his mom in the movie of their lives), but there was something extra frantic about him.
"Are you looking for your girl?" I asked, and pointed to Rey on the bed.
His eyes followed my arm and he immediately relaxed and stopped meowing. They nuzzled and he licked her face, and batted away her paw when she wanted him to stop. He HAD been looking her. And he'd been worried.
I tried to take a picture but there was too much prominent cat butthole going on.
Anyway. It was pretty cute. And that's all I've got.
Now Finn is inside a box.
I really don't understand why I'm not getting more work done these days.