When Basette was a kitten, she used to play tag. She’d sit under my chair and purr when that tail-twitching mood descended. Not a half-hearted purr-so-you’ll-put-me-down, but her full-throated, shake-the-floor-like-Granddad’s-snoring purr. It didn’t matter if I had to finish a paper for the next day’s class. She wanted to play, and she wanted to play […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…