Day 103: He smiles in his dreams, Tip does, and his whiskers seldom twitch the way those of many cats do. Tippy is a gentle little fellow. He dreams of playing, of getting his tummy "wuzzied," of playing tag with his Mama to tap her lightly on the foot or ankle as if to say, "Okay, now you're It. Catch me if you can." He dreams soft dreams, sweet dreams, his forehead unfurrowed, his ears relaxed. If sometimes a bird flits through his slumber, he mutters a quiet, questioning "Mirrl?" without waking. His eyelashes may flutter or a gentle purr ripple in the silence of his sleep, but my Boy dreams on, my beautiful dreamer.
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