The hunt

My three cats, all brothers, are 16.  Spats is so skinny and eats all the time.  He is healthy.  Just lost muscle mass with age.  Picasso is the lazy one.  He will ask for affection if he does not have to get out of his basket on the sofa table.  You walk by and he demands petting.  Van, well I worry about Van all the time.  Sometimes I think he is ready to go, then he fools me and struts across the house and looks so chipper.  So since they are all old, every morning I do a head count.  I hunt all of them up to make sure they are all still with me.  Spats does not need to be found.  He is always on top of me in the morning and follows me around demanding food.  Picasso is in his basket.  Van  has hiding places and sometime I have trouble finding him.  That was this morning.  I fed the dogs and put them out.  I started mixing the wet cat food with chicken broth and I'm worrying about Van.  I had not found him yet. Then I carried the wet cat food to the sun room and there was Van strutting across the room.  I still don't know where he was hiding.