Portrait Of A Winner

Heathcliff made the transition from starving, flea- ridden foundling to fully fledged household tyrant quite easily. Naturally, I love spoiling him.

Yesterday I told him at least three times that I really wanted to make the bed, but Heathcliff couldn't care less. So I left the battlefield, vanquished as usual, and withdrew into the living room to sulk over a cup of tea.

In the background you can catch a glimpse of Casey, my other black tom.