For the past some minutes, I have been watching as the Sophia-cat held her daughter down with a firm maternal forepaw and gave her a nose-to-tail bath. I thought that would be the end of it, but no. Now the admonishing foreleg is black and kitten sized. Yes indeed, Tornado has stretched her paw as far as it will reach across Sophia’s back and has begun to groom her mother. It’s abundantly clear that nothing is really preventing mom-cat from getting up and walking away, but she isn’t. She’s just lying there, being assiduously licked, staring at me through half-closed eyes. “It’s in the mom contract” she seems to be telling me. “She wants to play that she’s the mom for awhile”. I wouldn’t know a thing about it, Sophia. Not a single thing.