There was something poking his ribs, a strange pressure on his chest and a thumping noise that sounded oddly familiar. Just before he opened his eyes, he felt a warm, moist nuzzling on his shoulder and remembered.“Stella?”No. Not Stella.“Kitty. You’ve certainly made yourself comfortable.”The dog wagged her tail against the comforter again, leaning her chin down on her front legs, which were pinning Paul firmly to the bed. She whuffled at him again, licking the air a few inches from his face. Then, evidently satisfied with his credentials, she rolled onto her back, long limbs gangling everywhere as she presented her tummy for his attentions.“Yes ma’am,” Paul sighed, obediently rubbing the dog’s smooth, fawn-colored belly. Her bones jutted out, poking into him and making him grateful for the very small amount of padding provided by his own dog’s shaggy coat. While he worked, he looked around the small but comfortable room. One wall consisted of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the wooded back of the property, and the morning sun was just setting the autumn leaves on fire.
