MouseyTongue finds new home

The little kitten that was brought to us a month ago, weak, malnourished, and homeless has gone from 0.8 lbs to 1.9 lbs in that time. Now the kitten is frisky and his reflexes are sharp. He moves so quickly that it's near impossible to photograph him. Tomorrow, Saturday, Mousey finds a new home with Susan. He'll have some playmates (unlike the gang of four that hiss at him here) who'll enjoy bouncing around with him.
Susan lives in the apartment block where my mom and dad first set up housekeeping. We lived in the other side of the duplex from 1960 - 62. There's an element of coming full circle to this, a repetition - as Kierkegaard would have it. When we go there I peruse the shapes and angles of the layout, looking for some clue to my infantile formation. Since Susan's place is the opposite of the one my parents lived in, it's like looking in a mirror, or a mirror of a mirror. In the mirror of memory it's like looking in a mirror of a mirrored mirroring mirror.
It's something to reflect on.
But MouseyTongue is bothered by none of this. No Hegelian or Lacanian ruminations for his little kitten paws as he scampers around his new environs, battling dust bunnies, sidling up with his new kitten buddies in Christ. He'll grow fat and happy, napping in sunny spots for years to come.