Gareth, who had been drowsing on top of Jason’s pillow, uncurled and climbed onto the boy’s lap. Jason stroked the cat and ran his finger over Gareth’s only white spot -- on his chest, a T-shaped mark with a loop over the crossbar.
“Lucky Gareth,” Jason sighed, lying back and closing his eyes, “I wish I had nine lives.”
The cat stopped purring. “I wish I did too,” he said.