Taken from my mobile phone, I wanted to be sure to capture this image before he moved.
The older he gets, the less conventional postures Bob takes when sleeping.
As of late, this has been my view upon waking.
No sweet kitty face.
No tail wrapped around my wrist.
No fanged mouth, open and softly snoring, framed by soft, orange fur.
Oh no, my friends.
I get the ass end.
The drumstick in the air.
I like to think of it as the kitty equivalent to, "rock on!"
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