When I wake up in the morning, I stretch and yawn and take a few moments to face the day.
Then, I hop down….
…on to this little sofa.
Then, I hop off and wait. And wait. And wait. For the lift to come take me downstairs. My own personal elevator.
For some reason, I’ve stopped coming down the stairs myself, so I call for the Lift. Maybe I don’t see as well as I used to? Maybe my joints hurt from carrying a tad bit of weight more than I should?
Or maybe. Just maybe, I like having my peeps at my beck and call.
My own personal elevators. Two!
Ah, what a life.