The storms have passed. Lots of rain in Greenville, Benny said, but here it was mostly thunder with a little of the wet stuff. Miss Callie is semi-reclining on my chest, her pristine white paws crossed very daintily. She is warm–very warm–her little sides rapidly heaving up and down; I am always telling her to slow down that breathing. I want her to live a nice long life so she mustn’t wear herself out.