Sunday, July 29, 2012


Rachel has five cats, none of which are allowed in our work room.  This is because they are not... trusted to govern themselves with restraint.  We go in, we shut the door behind us.  It's the only room in the house they are not invited in, and this restriction, plus the fact that they are probably getting tantalizing whiffs of strange smells that need to be investigated, seems to be nigh on agonizing for the three youngest cats.  But particularly for Hazel, who we frequently find curled up in the room right outside our work space, staring up at us and looking a little indignant that she's still not allowed to hang with us in there.

Today though, Hazel got what she wanted when some curiosities were left on the piano after a photoshoot:

If loving you is wrong, then... well, she'll just sleep it off either way.

Apparently the excitement wore her out.  Fortunately, that vintage book was there for a pillow.

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