It’s been nippy this week in L.A. (Yes, we’re crying frostbite at 46 degrees but I swear it’s COLD, damnit.) I normally skimp on heating but tonight I have the heater on. And for atmosphere, I light some tea lights.
Despite last month’s fiasco, I have my back turned away from the tealights while I worked. I thought he was in his condo.
He was not.
He was perched on the dining room table, right up against the tea lights. Staring wistfully into the amber glow. Oblivious to the smell of burning fur.
[Actually, this image was shot a couple years earlier. So, instead of negligence, you can just accuse me of teaching him some bad habits.]