Good Little Weaver's Cat

Day 63: "I'm gonna go weave. You wanna come with me?" The ears perk up and he raises his head from the cushion of his kitty perch next to my chair in the living room. "Go get in your little weaver's box." He jumps down and races for the Loom Room, immediately jumping up onto the cedar chest to curl up in the box. He can't bear to have me out of his sight, and he knows that if he messes with dangling strings, tie-ups, treadles, heddles or my Christmas cactus collection, he'll be exiled. I sit down to weave, and after the first dozen or so throws, I hear the sound of a contented cat snoring. He's with his mama, and that's all that matters. After I've completed eight inches or so, my shoulders are beginning to object. "Time to go out," I say. And down he hops, has a good stretch to get the kinks out, then exits to the living room, claiming my chair before I even get there.