Christmas is long past, but every morning I can expect gifts from the kitties. I have ping-pong balls in my rain boots, catnip toys in my slippers. When I change out the litter pans, I find toys buried in the sand.

In the evening, I have lap dances from Baker and Trump. Chin bumps from Charlie and an arm bath from Matuse. I can’t forget the chorus of purrs from Chappy, Sierra, Charlie and Oliver as I fall asleep at night.