I sleep in a hospital bed. The need for it is disappearing, but you can't beat it for comfort! I can raise my feet if I care to, or adjust my head and shoulders at any angle for comfortable reading.

But it is a twin sized bed and I have six fat, lazy cats. I think you can see the problem this presents.

I awoke this morning something past the "witching" hour. I sat up on the edge of my bed and turned on my favorite music station, took the pills I forgot to take last night, munched a handful of pumpkin seeds and looked for something new and interesting to read.

When I turned my head, I could see two cats sprawled out on the foot of my bed, two stretched out across the middle and one on my pillow. (The other one prefers to sleep on the dining room table.) In other words, they had left me just the ample space where I was sitting.

I looked at those dear, furry bodies deep in safe and comfortable sleep -- and I didn't have the heart to move them! (Maybe you are cold-hearted enough to do it, but I am not! Also, I love to hear cats snore -- their existence on the raw edge of terror forgotten for a few brief hours!)

So I sat there, hunched over, cold and uncomfortable, yearning for a cup of tea, trying to read in the dim light, my poor feet shriveled up and aching for the warmth of the blankets, while the little beasts slept on!

I ask you -- could a devoted cat slave have done more? Or less?

Copyright © Renee Darvin
October 30, 2002