Last weekend approximately forty women descended upon my friend Jen’s home for a daylong women’s retreat. It was awesome. And restful. And life-giving.

Jen’s cat Clooney held his own amongst the ladies. Initially he planted his fluffy body in the middle of a walkway as though to make sure everyone knew they were in his space. Later, as I walked through the home snapping photos, I found Clooney in the ultimate position of repose—reclining on the master bed. Nay, not just reclining, but leaning back into the pillows as though the plebians could go about their business in the main rooms, but he was going to catch up on his beauty sleep, thankyouverymuch.

Oh Clooney, you are too much.