It was a selfie moment and I so wished for a camera last night. However, since I was pinned down and could not move, the chance would have been lost anyhow. Four heads on one pillow - make that three heads and a whole cat on one pillow. Come bedtime, we are a very close-knit group, Bessie Anne, Ralph, Celeste, and I. It would have made a great picture.
"Kek. Kek kek kek." Ralph watches birds outside the windows and speaks a universal cat language of discovery. I can't wait to see how he'll respond when turkeys parade on the railing.
I fear Celeste has become institutionalized. She spends more time in the bat cave and I see less and less of her in the daytime. It may be that I will have to bring both cats out and shut the bedroom door behind them, leaving them no recourse but to make friends with Bess and find new hidey holes. I think Ralph would be up for the challenge; he's pushing boundaries already. (I just realized this will need rethinking. The much-used litter box is in the bathroom and no way will I cut off access to that!)
There are certain advantages to living alone: complete power over the remote control, eating and sleeping whenever the mood strikes, stuff like that. A significant drawback is that there is no one around to give shoulder or back rubs. Esther is the solution to that problem here. She insists on rubbing her head on me before she'll get down from the stand, usually under my arm and against my ribs. I've found that if I position myself just right, her bony head rubbing vigorously is a most satisfactory, if brief, back massage. One learns to improvise.