His white feline was reclining lazily on the couch. “Really? You have to ask?” It flicked its tail and let out a huge yawn, settling in for a rest. Its claws scratched the sofa, and its eyes lowered slowly.
Jim thought. He did spend what seemed like every minute refilling the food and water bowls, or brushing, or holding the dangling string. He enjoyed the process, and when he thought about it ...
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Fluffy. Want some fresh caviar with today’s tuna?”