It was 8:00 the next morning before I crawled out of bed. Even Merlin’s complaining about his late breakfast hadn’t fazed me. After ten minutes of opera yowling and one run across my forehead, he’d probably decided I was dead. I suppose I was lucky he didn’t start eating me. I had read up on house cats. You didn’t want to die alone with one. Not if you weren’t going to be missed for a while.
