My babies are happy little creatures. George sat back on his haunches this morning, upright, on our balcony. He began playing in fresh powder, lots of powder. Rubbing snow between his paws, the little fella watched each pristine flake fall gently to the ground. It was as if I was interrupting private kitty moments. I didn't have my camera. By the time I came back to capture pure, beautiful, critter wonder, he was curious as to where I'd scooted, what I was doing. The small window of time, to watch him enjoy our snow, was a little surreal. I accidentally stumbled upon this secret playtime. He's a gentle soul, his delight clear this morning. I promise he smiled.
And then there's Maggie Rose. She's like me, when happy, she's excited from head to toe, or paw. As she runs to me for hugs, her little hiney wags her entire petite self. Joy overflows her bitty body.
I'm grateful for my animals.
Life is good. No matter political discourse, life is good.
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