Paws for thought

My early morning start was delayed by listening to cricket commentary from Brisbane. The crisp sparkles of reflected light eventually drew me outside to the garden in my dressing-gown, camera in hand, accompanied by a well-fed and happy cat. I looked at the very frosty patio table for possible shots , and Bomble thought he would join in. He leapt up on the table and plonked himself beside me, in classic cat pose with his front legs extended to support his head and body, whilst squatting his backside onto the table.

He suddenly got up, obviously because the frost was getting to him. He turned round, looked and then sniffed at his own paw prints, somewhat in amazement. I don't really know what went on in his brain, but he knew the prints were not there when he jumped up, and now had an odour, which he needed to relate to. He was back asleep within twenty minutes on our bed and I wished I could have joined him.