Ginger / red / orange tabby cats — predominantly George.
George in a cardboard box of wine bottles: ginger and white, looking lawful. Wine deliveries are, until further notice, on hold.
George installed in a cardboard box of wine bottles, ginger and white, looking entirely lawful about it. Wine deliveries suspended pending review.
George on his back, paws loose, ginger and white against the sheet. He has, by his estimation, finished. The day will start without him.
George flat out on his back on white sheets, paws relaxed, ginger and white. The classic moggy yoga position. Fully off duty.
Both cats among the flowerpots, ginger and tabby. The warm spots have been settled before the seedlings could speak.
Both cats among the flowerpots in the greenhouse, ginger and tabby, claiming the warm spots before the seedlings could.
Both cats: ginger and tabby, fur into fur. The fluffy rug bears them. The brothers are, briefly, of one mind.
Both cats out cold on the fluffy rug, ginger and tabby, fur into fur. The brothers at peace; the rug taking the weight.
George, ginger and white, wearing the dark collar. The face he reserves for a lens held too close, held there a beat too long: flat, patient, narrowed entirely to this one mechanical offence.
Both cats asleep on the same white blanket: ginger and tabby, contact maintained. The daily ceasefire holds, for the moment.
George flat on the coloured blankets, Easter Sunday afternoon. Ginger and white, horizontal. He has not eaten the chocolate. The rest, in time, he will.
George at the windowsill, Buddha statue for company. Easter weekend, decent light. They wear, for the photograph, the same face.
George on a stool, ginger and white, green eyes steady. The pose suggests he is between things. He is not. He is precisely where he means to be.
George at the door, ginger head round the frame. He watches. Each passing body is, by his lights, a potential breach.