Bossa is not proud, but she is pretty.

Scott and I were chatting tonight about how our cats Bossa and Samba are the constants in our lives. No matter how the day goes, we can count on it starting and ending with Bossa demanding to be fed. I know that when I turn out the lights at night, Samba will pounce onto the bed and then settle in on top of me. In the middle of the night, if I wake up and look over at our dresser, Samba will be perched in front of the mirror gazing at me (creepy).

When we eat dinner, Bossa will always join us, completely disinterested (of course), but there, nonetheless.
On weekend mornings, when we crack the blinds to let the sun in, Bossa will lay in the sun, and move with it across the carpet as the morning progresses, and the sun dares to move.
Whenever male guests leave their lovely and new (to her) shoes by our front door, she will fully inspect them, and perhaps, make love to them.
In all the craziness of life, I can always count on my kitties to be my constant. Samba pics to follow shortly.