His life is an ocean, his days tides. He sails, guided by the pink light of his nose on her storm grey combed cotton face. Rain, shine or thunder storm, weather does what it does, and he sails smiles and meows.
I call him Leonard.
His body made of a thick sand coloured ribbed jersey, soft limbs gloved in faded black chinos, he will weather the storm, bushfire, virus, politics, even solitude.