One of the many joys of sitting quietly in my apartment is when my upstairs neighbor comes home and I get to listen to her (usually several minutes long) greetings and subsequent conversation with her Yorkie; Mr. Biggs. It makes me want to know her. Nothing else about this person has ever been appealing to me, but hearing her little dogs excitedly clicking nails on the wood floor and her high-pitched, squealing hellos as she walks in the door... I'd actually like to hug her.
Today she told him she had missed him and then went on to describe how cold it was outside as she put his leash on. Then I heard them come down the stairs, go outside, her tell him good boy, her mail box opening, and her describing to Mr. Biggs what she found inside.
Maybe she can feel the mental hug I'm sending through my ceiling up into her floor.
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