Finney and I have this ritual. When he wants to come up on my lap he comes over and stares at me. I spend a few minutes going, “Come on up Finney.” “I’d love to have a kitty on my lap.” “Come on up, little dude.” “You wanna come up? Come on up.” He can’t just jump right up. He must be coaxed. Like this isn’t what he wants right from the start.
I've written six non-fiction books, the most recent is Damnation Island: Poor, Sick, Mad, and Criminal in 19th-Century New York.View all posts by Stacy Horn →
One thought on “Come up!”
cool pic. his eyes look like irridescent pearls.