Max's profile photo from his shelter days
Last night, after I wrote the previous blog post boo-hooing about how crappy I felt, I was laying on the couch watching "Ever After" (hey, there wasn't much on). My cat Max made an appearance in the living room, which is not a common occurence. Even though I was surrounded by the Cat Patrol—a.k.a. Spanky and Adora—Max still managed to jump on the arm of the couch where I was resting my head. He purred and rubbed his head against my head, something he likes to do, especially when I'm doing laundry or bending over for some reason. After a few rubs he gently kissed me on the forehead, turned around, and walked away. It was so unexpected and cute that I had to smile, and my mood improved from then on.
Today I'm still not feeling so well, although not as bad as yesterday. But I feel a little rosier after getting a kiss for luck last night.