As further proof that nothing is ever really wasted, my useless 49 cent art brick thunked to the floor of my studio, where it promptly became the love of Loki’s life. He’s been cuddling with it for the last eight hours. I had to poke him at one point to see if he was still alive. (He is, but he was grumpy about being distracted from snuggling his brick.) I have had cats that can sleep on the serrated edge of a Saranwrap box, but Loki is the first one who’s life seems to have culminated in using a brick for a pillow.
That cat ain’t right.