A Billy Joel song wakes me up at 3:52 AM today and by the time I brush aside the covers, the next song plays on my radio alarm clock. I lean up towards the end of the bed and stroke Nelja's fur.
I walk into the kitchen and flip on the light, pouring some food into the cat dish. My thoughts turn to my breakfast as I prepare to meet some other crazies at the Hillsborough Balloon Festival at 5:00 AM.
I hear Nelja's claws tick softly into the laminate flooring in the hallway. She walks slowly behind me toward the food dish.
Since she was sick earlier this week, now recovered, she moves and acts cautiously, perhaps a little tired.
But as I watch her walk I laugh inside. Every time that I see the back legs of a cat, any cat, while they walk, I can't help but think that it looks like baggy old man pants!