I petted a rug this morning. Bent down and stroked it before realizing it wasn’t my black cat.
Granted the lighting was dim, and I hadn’t had my first sip of coffee yet, but I talked to the rug in the voice I generally reserve for my black cat long before I got close enough to pet it.
I should’ve known something was up when she didn’t talk back.
Praying for Eyebrowz 