when i put our foreheads together he sings a little song. we were making dinner, listening to the old songs on my old pooter, watching the slide show of old pictures, and many fens popped up making me smile and laugh. 
he ate little pieces of his best treats from my hand yesterday and lay on his fluffy gray pillow for before and after massage. but last night he didn't eat. i'll do it again today, and maybe sing him color my world.