Enzo's most favourite place to sleep during the day is under the sheets and duvet on our bed. I was always told that cats won't go in a place where their whiskers won't fit through, but Enzo totally disproves that theory. He will stand beside the made bed, stick his nose under the duvet and wiggle, squiggle, squirm, and climb until his whole body is under the covers. Then he creeps around under there until he finds a good spot. It's quite funny to watch this lump creep and crawl back and forth under the covers. Sometimes it can go on forever until he finds that one spot that his little heart desires.

This morning he made a slight misjudgment when he was getting into the bed. He chose to get in at the foot of the bed, where the duvet cover is buttoned closed. Somehow, and I'll never know how he managed, he got in between the buttons. The result was that instead of being under the duvet, he was *inside* it. No matter to him, he was in there and that's all that matters. He did his creepy crawly routine and finally found a spot. At this point I didn't know he was inside the duvet, I thought everything was normal. I resumed sorting laundry and chuckled at his nutty behaviour.

A few minutes later he must have decided he wasn't ready for a nap because he started crawling towards the nearest edge, like he does when he wants to get out. Normally, he would get to the edge, poke his head out, and drop off the bed from under the covers. This time there was no opening for his escape. This was when I realised what he had done. I decided to wait and see what he did. He went over the edge of the bed and ended up hanging off the side, inside the duvet cover. He kind of scratched at it, maybe thinking he had missed the opening, and then stretched out his body to it's full length and laid still. The cover was wrapped around him so tight that he looked like a blue and yellow plaid sausage! I couldn't resist poking him through the cover, I know it's mean, but it looked so funny! So I poked him where I judged his belly to be, and he beeped a response at me. It was his, "Mommy, what the hell is going on?" meow. And that's when it happened... he started freaking out. All he needed was to know that I was there before he could really get scared and angry. He started wriggling and pawing at the cover, meowing for all he was worth. I was talking to him, trying to calm him down before he hurt himself, and trying to get him out of there.

You know how it's hard to give a cat a bath, or a pill, or do anything to them when they're scared. Some day, when you're feeling adventurous, try getting a frightened cat out of a queen sized duvet cover.

Now with a mangled duvet cover on the floor, and a bruised ego, Enzo has decided that the window sill is a much safer place to be.

Copyright © Rebecca Parkin
January 13, 2001