The bed is covered in a deep teal comforter. A black cat with white whiskers and white socks is curled up in the center. Her name is Echo. Echo is surrounded by clean white laundry.
An older women with white hair and age spotted hands reaches for another piece of laundry to fold, and tweaks Echo’s back foot. She folds the washcloth, and after stacking it neatly, tickles the cat’s exposed belly. Echo curls her front paws in response.
“Sometimes she’ll grab at your hands a little,” the woman says quietly. “She likes to be teased.” She picks up and folds a pair of socks, then gives Echo’s tail a quick shake. The cat looks toward her tail, then seeing it’s her human playing with it, relaxes and flicks her tail once.
The woman walks her fingers across the plush comforter toward the cat, who watches with half interest. The fingers pounce, and Echo gently grabs the hand with her pure white paws. “I never dreamed I’d have a housecat.”