Okay, for the record I seriously dislike that song. It’s supposed to sound slow and lazy like a summer day, but to me it sounds lugubrious like a summer song as interpreted by Marvin the Paranoid Android.

That having been said, it’s hot.

Like 92F hot. Way, WAY to hot for this early in the summer in Seattle.

And the cats, being cats, are sleeping in the stereotypically feline abandoned positions one expects of a piece of well aged roadkill. Case in point this afternoon, may I present Flitter:

Dead Flitter

Now for the sake of orientation, that’s Flitter lying lengthways along the back of my recliner. With her left front leg, holding on to the bannister that runs the length of our living room, supporting her head. And yes, she was asleep.
This is from the top down.

Also dead Flitter

There’s about a 4 inch gap between the edge of the recliner and the bannister, and there’s a 3 foot space between the top of the bannister and the floor.

At my youngest and most flexible I don’t think I could have slept like that without suffering permanent cramps.

Cats are non-Newtonian fluids.