Occupy the Bed

 The Krasota Kastle Cats started the Occupy the Bed movement and we decided to join in.  Here I am preventing Mom from making up the bed.  This makes the point that we think the bed should belong to the kitties.

Emma:  Mom keeps a soft throw at the foot of the bed and I have claimed it as my own.  It's dark and makes it hard to see me.  I nap here quite often.

We could take up more room if we would both occupy the bed at the same time, but we never do that when Mom isn't in the bed and we rarely do it when Mom is in the bed.

Emma:  The only times we are both in bed at the same time is when I beat Herman to bed and grab his spot next to Mom.  He has to be contented to sleep by her legs.

Karen Jo:  Thank goodness that little trick of yours hasn't started any spats, Emma.  You both respect the first cat in the bed gets the petting rule and don't get jealous (usually) unless I try to pet both of you.  Sometimes (rarely), neither of you comes to bed with me and I have to sleep all lonely.

It's that coughing and shaking the bed that keeps us away, I think.  Sometimes we get all comfortable in Emma's room or the living room and don't feel like moving just because you decide it's bedtime.

I got to go outside.  Don't worry, it was in the stroller.  I am beginning to enjoy the stroller more.  I didn't start complaining until we were almost at the vet's.

Karen Jo:  I just took you in for your monthly weighing.  You weigh exactly the same as you did last time.  I'll take that as good.  I don't know how you recognize the vet's before we go in, but your complaining goes up a notch as soon as the sign is really clearly visible.

You take me there every month, of course I would recognize it.  I had to really ramp up the complaining before you would take me home again.  You just stood there talking and talking.

Karen Jo:  OK, you recognize the vet's by the sign or whatever.  Why don't you stop complaining when we get close to home?  Surely you recognize home.

I do, but I am still cooped up in the stroller and I want OUT.

Guess what?  Mom roasted a cross-rib beef roast and I liked it.  The only beef I have liked before is steak and rib roast.  Mom gave me little bits whenever she ate some herself.  I really bugged her about it.  I even jumped up on the table while she was eating, which is a big no-no.

Karen Jo:  You got your fuzzy butt coaxed off the table right quick, too.  I am glad to see you jumping up so high again.  You even jumped up to the sink for a drink of water the other day.

I got it, too.  I love faucet water.

Emma:  I am totally all right again, all well.  Herman and I play chase and boxing again just like we used to.  Herman was really nice.  When he realized I was almost myself again, he started to play with me gently.  He jumped out at me and made me run, but didn't chase me and didn't try to swat me.  He waited until the next day to start playing a little rougher.  I have only run to my hidey-hole once since I got well and I didn't stay long -- just until Herman went away again.  I have also become a lap cat.  I sit in Mom's lap for at least a little while almost every day.  Herman watches sometimes, but doesn't try to do anything to make me get down.

I don't care if you sit in Mom's lap.  I don't want to sit there.  I think you get a bit more attention than you deserve, but I get attention, too.