The cats have been tearing around the apartment chasing the laser pointer for the last five minutes. When I pause (because my thumb's getting tired on the button, darnit) they sit in front of me with expectant looks on their faces, their gazes moving from the pointer in my hand to the floor in front of my feet and back, and meow at me.
Penelope's going to be a sharp one, I can tell. Quite possibly might teach herself to play fetch. (For the non-cat folks who may be reading this: you can't teach a cat to play fetch, the cat has to do so on its own. And most cat people you ask will agree that it's only the smart cats that do so. Sweet-but-dim does not a fetch-player make.)
Bella is a little subdued, since she's fighting off some sort of upper-respiratory tract infection, but still chasing the pointer a bit. And she is so sweet and cuddly, with a wonderful purr...
Yep, completely, besottedly in love with my cats. *grin*
Oops. I just brushed the pointer's chain with my hand, and Penelope, who had been lying beside my feet looking idly at me, leapt up when she heard it and is now dancing around the chair, chirruping and mrrrp!ing madly.