Bodhi is the one who starts jumping on me every morning starting around 5:30am, and bat-bat-bats my face with his paw, claws-extended. He doesn’t hit me hard enough to pierce the skin, but just enough to give his bats an emphasizing sting. If that doesn’t work he bites my nose or climbs up on the pillow and bites my head. He bites my freaking head! If my hand or foot is extending out from the covers they become fair game to bite on.

He’s also the one who leaps up into my arms from the floor. It’s irresistible. In exchange, I take him for a walk around the apartment, showing him things he can’t jump up to. This was Finney’s favorite thing, so it always makes me a little sad, but Bodhi loves it too. (Bali does not like to be picked up or carried. Bleecker has mixed feelings.)

Stacy Horn

I've written six non-fiction books, the most recent is Damnation Island: Poor, Sick, Mad, and Criminal in 19th-Century New York.

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