She lifts her face to the sun. To her, there are no shadows. Just warmth and light, and a soft place to lay down.
Chew on some stuff.
Snuggle…with a nap.
She is what I imagine love would be like if you held it in your hands, cloaked it in fur and added claws and a few pointy little needle-teeth. And a motor.
She is what we needed Charlie to be.
She is the door that opened.