Glad to know I'm not the only one with a cat-skin rug in my house.

This made me think of a story my grandmother would tell about her cat Albert, a black-and-white who passed away more than 40 years ago. It was the hottest day of the summer (and in Philadelphia that's REALLY hot, and sticky), and of course the furnace man had come to test the furnace. Albert, then a tom in the prime of life, had spread himself on the porch swing so flat that Grandmother swore he wasn't more than an inch thick at any point. The furnace man finished up and left.... then knocked on the screen and said "Lady, I think your cat's dead!" Naturally, that made Albert lift his head and give the man a dirty look, for disturbing his siesta.

Liz