If Fritz somehow beats Monster to my lap, she has this extraordinary process where first she looks a bit shocked and wounded, then extremely irate, and then something in her walnut-sized brain clicks and it’s like he doesn’t exist. She will just climb on top of him as if he is not there and attempt to curl up and go to sleep, despite the fact that I am laughing and he is not a flat surface, or she will insinuate herself into the sliver of space between him and the rest of me until everyone is forced to accommodate her. It’s inspirational.