“Good morning, brown kitten. Ready for breakfast?”
I fed Oli and Obi, then went to the evil couch to watch my morning episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Oliver joined me shortly after.
A while later, The Boy was lead into the living room for Obi’s morning belly rub.
All morning, Obi was silent. I managed to coax one squeak out of him by snuggling and kissing him until he could stand it no more.
This evening, the silence continues. Silent through the welcome routine. Silent through the opening of a tuna can. Silent through the couch snuggling.
Perhaps he’s just run out of things to say.