Contortionist Sleeping

                There are still other personalities to introduce but in my severe sleep deprived state, I can only think of one topic—nighttime bed arrangements.  My husband and I share a queen-sized bed—he has one half; Biff, Frank, Finnegan, Jersey, Toby, and I share the other half.  My husband claims that they avoid his side because of his CPAP machine, but even when he gets up early or comes to bed late, his side stays empty and I share my side with Biff, Frank, Finnegan, Jersey, and Toby.

                Granted, they aren’t that big, but they do possess several inconvenient abilities.  The first is the ability to triple their weight while asleep. Yes, I know this defies the laws of physics, but reality is reality—when they are asleep they become dense, immovable blobs.  They also possess amazing spatial skills.  This allows cat arrangements that consume maximum square footage while dividing the leftover space into dozens of unconnected pieces.  The shapes I contort into to fit around them put pretzels to shame.  To avoid the more painful positions I often resort to keeping one foot on the floor and a shoulder on the bedside table.  This can

Waiting for Bedtime

actually be comfortable until my claustrophobia kicks in and I feel trapped in that position with the covers held down tightly by their leaden bodies.

                So why don’t I just lock them out of the room?  (You were thinking it, weren’t you?)  Because having them in the room is more peaceful.  Nothing unites the efforts of the clowder more firmly than a shut door between them and, well…anything.  The few times I have tried shutting them out they took turns using their heads as battering rams.  (Lucky for them we have hollow core doors!)  This is a loud, sleep interrupting process that results in dizzy and extremely torqued off animals.

                I suppose if I’m to give thanks in all circumstances, there must be an upside to life without sleep.  Well, I am thankful for sleeping, furry kitties (this means they aren’t awake, bored, or all-star wrestling on top of me).  I enjoy reaching out at night to pet them.  It is soothing and calming.  I am thankful for the love of little creatures, which is much less complicated than human relationships.  I can even find humor in the fact that Jersey gets up at 4 a.m. to stare at me.  It is her way of saying, “Don’t forget our canned food this morning.  You love us too much to make us eat the dry food.”

                 I need a nap.