Red

So, last night, maybe two am, who knows, and eleven pound mass of cat bounded onto and off of my lower abdomen. He'd launched from D's tum. Hard not to feel a certain hostility at that moment of rude awakening. Even when it's followed by loud, happy purring. But while that drowsy, no chance of acting on that emotion.

A few months ago, we put in a red light in the front entryway. Red light allows illumination, without degrading night vision. D has terrible insomnia, and although sound doesn't bother me at night, light does. Likewise, when I'm up at 0600, I really don't want to wake D, in case he's had a short night. We already have a night-light with motion sensor in the bathroom, made red with nail polish, that works beautifully. The hall light hadn't been used much through the summer, but as the days shorten, it's paying off now.

So, when I got up, I didn't hear Moby anywhere, didn't see him at all. Until I went to put my lunch in my bag hanging on the front door. I'd done laundry the night before, and his towel (and my army sweatshirt) that we leave in there for him as padding, I'd tossed here. Partly because he's been known to content himself lying on it when the dryer is being used for other-than-the-cat. Smushed up against the closet door, he watched me, not moving at all, snuggled into his towel (and my army sweatshirt.) Looking very cute, so I had to giggle. I did gently admonish him for gut punching me.

I wrote to D about this, and he wrote back that two hours later "I checked, and he's still there. I was wondering where he was." He's been an odd cat this week. Talked at me when I came in today. Not unheard of, but so rare, especially during the day. Just not that vocal a cat.

So, yes, that's the right color in the photo.