The Little Criminals, Part III
After years of non-scientific testing, we’ve decided that contrary to popular belief, cats don’t have dander. They have an as-yet-unidentifiable sleep-inducing compound in their fur, that when in contact with a human lap for more than ten minutes, will catalyze and induce the most profound drowsiness possible without the use of chemical compounds.
I can go to from reasonably functioning to completely zonked out in less time than it takes to get through the opening sequence of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (on DVD, with no commercials!).
They of course have the ability to fall asleep just about anywhere, at any time, and still be exhausted by the time we need to go to bed. I have no idea how they do it, but next time round, I wanna come back as a cat.
Anyways, our sleeping arrangements have been years in the making, but only recently have the L.C.’s managed to get us trained so completely.
Used to be that the little one would start her bed-time routine at 9:30 or so; chirping, she’d take a few steps to the bedroom, make sure I was following, then chirp and walk some more. This would go on until it was fully established that she wanted to go in bed, and I was expected to go with her, like some lady-in-waiting.
Nowadays she takes a less aggressive approach, mainly because she’s spent the last few years beguiling my sweetie to the point where he knows he’s wrapped around her paw and doesn’t care. So now she reposes on ‘her’ chair until she’s picked up and cuddled in to bed with us. By the next morning, said sweetie is clinging to one side of the bed, and I am either curled into a tiny fetal position or trapped between two furry cat bodies, afraid to move without waking them.
Either way, the L.C.’s have taken over the other 3/4 of the bed. Typical.