I felt the warmth on my thigh. Sugar had settled down onto my foot. She was soft and fluffy, cute and mischievous, alluring and independent.

All of this mushed into one kitten. I absolutely loved her. She was my home life. We’d sit together in front of the fireplace; Sugar would doze on my lap and I’d read a book or sew. All the same she would drop off, unfailing, in the same spot every night.

And every night I’d gently put her into the basket next to my bed.

Sugar’s little chest was going up and down; She was purring in her sleep. I just wanted to squeeze her and press her little furry squishiness against my cheek. That would have dire consequences on my face, though, so I decided to leave the idea behind.

Sugar’s paws twitched and her jaws clacked together softly; Perhaps she had caught the mouse all cats dream of. Her tail moved up and down. I couldn’t help myself; I giggled as her whiskers went haywire.

I picked her up and tucked her into her bed.
I turned off the lights.

“Goodnight, Sugar.”