Sleepy, apprehensive, he lounges stretched out in a soft curve, Sticking out of the owly cover a pointy velvety antenna twitching softly, searching for imperceptible background noise. The body steady, relaxed, While the soul hastily chases squirrels, birds and the ever ubiquitous Jolly Ball. Paws crossed, eyes wide shut, Wheezing breaths rhythmically crescendo. *A loud and heavy sigh breaks the silence.* He shifts, lays back down, starts all over again... Sweet Z, perched up high on the beanbag throne. Loving. Waiting. Safely home.