The "Dead" Cat

The wind is howling outside. I cannot see the barn in the falling darkness, as the snow is sheeting sideways, almost perpendicular. The bare trees are shaking and swaying, making me wait for the tell-tale crack of broken limbs. In short, a day (and now, a night) to sit inside, and pray the power doesn't go off while I contemplate the next story. There is also the bonus presence of the "Dead" cat, Jess, close by.
Jess sleeps as if she was walking along and someone shot her with a tranquilizer dart. She slumps to one side, head sideways, paws slightly outflung, body limp. In short, she looks dead. Its so convincing that I often have to nudge her awake, because I'm afraid she really did die in her sleep. But as she chooses to "die" in the chair, in the cat bed, or on in front of the fire, I usually assume she's still alive. "Are you dead, Jess?" I ask morbidly, as I walk by. Sometimes, if she is deeply asleep, she won't answer; 14yrs has made her hard of hearing. Then I have to go over and pet her, saying "Jess? Jess!"
Usually, she'll wake up with a questioning purr, and I'll pet her. But sometimes, she just purrs very slightly, because its too much trouble to move. She's too happy and comfortable.
May you all be as happy and comfortable as "Dead" cats on this dark night. :)