I would like to welcome back an old friend.
Yes, after being away for the last seven months, my sunbeam has returned.
Oh, how I have missed it.
For some as yet unexplained reason, my sunbeam disappears in September, and then refuses to return until April or May. This truly annoys me.
I suspect it migrates south for the winter.
But all is well now. I woke up yesterday and spotted it sitting in my bay window, acting very aloof, as though it had never abandoned me. Silently, so as to not alert the other felines, I stalked the sunbeam. I was extremely careful not to spook it because sunbeams in my neck of the woods are extraordinarily skittish and tend to flee if caution is not exercised.
I crept in a low crouch, senses on high alert for the approach of Ivan and Tiger Lily lest they attempt to claim the prey for themselves. Once I deemed myself within pouncing range, I leapt, landing full straddle upon the unsuspecting ray, pinning it to the sill, totally at my mercy.
Satisfied that the beam was subdued, I began my ritualistic sunbeam yoga. Sunbeam yoga is an ancient feline form of exercise that consists of several very difficult pose thingies. I have, of course, mastered them all. Allow me to describe just a few of these:
Sprawled Dead Mousie- One lays on their back, chin jutting and legs parallel to the windowsill.
Creepy Pretzel- Once again, laying prone, but with legs akimbo, one paw wrapped around the head, eyes closed and teeth bared.
Crackhead Sphinx- Sitting on ones brisket, forepaws tucked, wild manic look while chittering. This pose thingy is especially good for watching bird thingies.
Joy To The Swirled- Laying on one's side, forming a perfect circle, connecting nose to tail.
There are many more pose thingies, but they all have one common denominator: If performed by a master such as myself, they can lead to total relaxation and productive napping.
Now, I am afraid that I must return to my bay window to continue my routine before Ivan wakes up and harshes my mellow.