My ancient dwindling kitty, Lady, follows me across the kitchen counters. She reaches out one scrawny arm to hook my sleeve. She has had her tablespoon of evaporated milk. She has had her breakfast. Now what?

So I bundle her bony four-pound self into my arms and carry her to the recliner. We stretch out and she aligns herself on my stomach.

Not quite full, all she wants is a little more me.