Truman and I are sitting on the balcony on a warm summer evening in Chicago. Truman has adapted to his harness. He waits until I put it on and then he walks around like heâ€™s carrying the weight of the world. When heâ€™s ready to go in he jumps up on the patio furniture near the door, goes through once I open up the door for him, and wait for me to take off his harness. Then he goes racing around the condo like a maniac.
Right now he is situated next to me, relaxing, purring, and chasing bugs from his vantage point on the patio couch. Or is it a patio Davenport? Occasionally he spots a seagull passing high overhead, probably one that has strayed a little ways from near by Lake Michigan. Then he gets back to looking for bugs.
There is a sort of contentment in sitting and relaxing with a well behaved feline purring at your side. I think he knows just as well as I do that tomorrow is Friday.
Weâ€™re both looking forward to the weekend.