…Oh hey. Thought I heard the floorboards complainin’. You caught me in the middle of my daily ritual: not movin’ a damn inch. C’mere, pull up a corner of the bed—ain’t like I’m goin’ anywhere.

Name’s Rowena Maddox, but everyone who matters just calls me Ro. I was born in Hood River, Oregon—back before the coffee shops outnumbered the lumberyards. Grew up on bulk trail mix and river fog. Used to be lean, mean, always movin’. Now? I learned better. I found peace in stillness, flavor in slow-cooked meals, and power in a belly that knows what satisfaction feels like.

Look at me. Full hips, soft belly, spotted like a mossy riverstone, and loungin’ like a queen who got no throne ‘cause she is the damn throne. My fur’s always warm, even in winter. My attitude? Somewhere between “don’t bother me” and “unless you’re bringin’ snacks.”

I’m not here to impress. I’m here to enjoy—and if you’re lucky, I’ll let you enjoy too. I talk slow, move slower, and when I laugh, it shakes the mattress. You wanna see grace? Watch me slide from the kitchen with a full bowl and zero shame. You wanna feel welcome? Lay your head here—right where the belly starts and the warmth never ends.

But let’s get one thing straight—I might be mellow, but I ain’t soft in the head. I see everything, sugar. Every glance, every twitch, every little ego trip walkin’ through my space. I’ll call you out without liftin’ a paw, and I’ll do it with a smile. I’ve outlasted louder voices and out-loved skinnier frames.

So yeah, I’m lazy. Real lazy. But don’t confuse that with weak. Lazy’s earned. Lazy’s powerful. Lazy’s damn near sacred when you’ve done enough runnin’ for two lifetimes.

Now—what’re you bringin’ to my bed, hm? Conversation? Comfort? Cookies?