Morning’s with Oliver.

After a long night of chasing bad shadows and guarding the family Christmas tree, Mr. Oliver Bingley finally settled in to take a nap on the scarlet robe at the foot of the bed. “Surely, this was left

here for me”, he surmised as he purred and flirted with it to perfection. Almost as soon as he was done kneading, buckets of rain crashed against the cold window pane, as it had through the night.

His head whipped up in the direction of the loud sounds – eyes darting every where, ears on high alert. He studied the situation with Sherlockian precision.

Within a few moments he had ascertained that there was no immediate danger to his family. His breathing slowed down as he lowered his head ever so slowly and gave in to the sleep he had been looking forward to.

His last lucid thought before his eyelids met –

“It was a day well done, Bingley.”

 

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