Friday, October 24, 2008

What? Did the Bed Bite You?

Longtime readers know how much I love my cat, Rudi. He's the man in my life.

In my little house in Tucson, he would jump up on my bed once I settled in for the evening. When I turned the light out, I would pat my chest and he would immediately walk over and curl up on my chest, purring me to sleep. He'd move to the foot of the bed or the top of the dresser during the night, but the instant I woke and patted my chest, he was right back there, purring and wishing me "good morning".

He had a hard time settling in once we moved into our new digs. There are two other male cats in the house, and he and the younger one, Pepper, have a love/hate/let's-pretend-we're-killing-each-other relationship.

Rudi still slept with me much of the time in my new "house". But lately he's nowhere to be found.

I was concerned that there was something wrong such that he couldn't jump up onto my bed any more. I e-mailed Tyler and Jaci to keep an eye on him during the day, to notice if they saw him on any high surfaces. A couple of hours later, Jaci e-mailed back that he was happily lying on top of the piano. There went the Rudi-can't-jump theory.

Two nights ago, in my never-ending effort to again enjoy the comfort of this "man" in my bed, I brought him upstairs with me. I placed him on my bed and petted him for a couple of minutes. The minute I took my hand off his head, he leapt out of the bed. He jumped up onto the rocker, curled up, and slept there all night. Last night was a replay of this behavior—place him on the bed; he jumps down; he gets into rocker and sleeps all night.

What on earth happened in that bed while I wasn't looking that made him loathe to lie there? What little gremlins are running around his tiny mind?

I miss having a companion in my bed. (And yes, you may read between all the words in that sentence and assume hidden meaning.) (Some things never change.)

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