Dear Leonard,

Dear Leonard,

You are a cat who lives in Canada. I have never seen you in person. I don’t know your humans. But my friend used to be their roommate, and occasionally she shares photos of your magnificent floof. You have become a photographic source of calm, a digital port in a meatspace storm, and also I think you would be an excellent cat to dress up as for Halloween. (That isn’t just flattery, seriously, one day I hope to have the adequately fluffy faux fur to pull that off. Because it would be cute, and warm, and have pleasant associations. Also because it would be funny to have people say “I love your cat costume,” and reply “I’m not a cat. I’m Leonard,” as if you were famous, and everyone should know that.)

I don’t know how your humans feel about pet-lebrity, but I personally think you could be internet famous. I guess, in a very small way, you are, since you are a cat I don’t know but whose photos I enjoy. Which makes me a very small-but-positive test case for your possible success. And if you don’t want fame, that is understandable, being famous seems to mean a lot of strangers not only talk to you all the time, but feel entitled to touch you, which is weird. You are a cat-lebrity only to me, so far as I know, and I wouldn’t just walk up and try to pet you. That would be rude. I am not saying if fate allows us to cross paths one day, and you seem friendly, I will not happily offer scritches. I am just saying if you are an aloof kitty, I respect that, and you don’t have to be friendly to me for me to enjoy your work.

Well, Leonard, I am going to go ahead and guess you are never going to see this, because we don’t know each other, and I think the odds against you following my blog are pretty high, because you are a cat, and presumably don’t really browse the web. Or like drawings. Or know how to read. But it has been nice taking a pretend pen pal break.

May your excellent photographic floof shed benevolence into my days, fluffy stranger, until my life is so wonderful that I feel as blissed out and at peace as you appear in that photo of you sitting in the sun by the window, and may all of your humans’ windows provide you with sunny or shady places to sit, according to your preference.

Fondly,

Lisa

p.s. I can see myself writing to you again, which I am guessing you will be cool with, you know, because, see above re: you being a cat, and your general unawareness of me and all things associated therewith.

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