So last night, I’m reading, and Ben comes in, snuggles down in his accustomed place at my ankles, and gets comfy.
A minute later, Angus comes in. Ben switches to the outside of the left calf in order to keep an eye on the newcomer.
Angus jumps on the bed and heads for me.
Now, Ben has been incredibly tolerant, but this is just too much. I am HIS monkey, damnit! He hisses.
Angus considers this, and lays down at a respectful distance, not quite touching the monkey.
Ben, feeling somewhat grumpy about this development, gets up and stomps off to go eat the rest of Angus’s food. Angus promptly moves into the warm spot Ben has just vacated, stretched out along my left calf. “Oh lord…” the monkey mutters to herself.
Ben returns, sees Angus in HIS SPOT, and in order to prove just who owns me, jumps on the bed, lays down full length across my torso, (Ben, as I’ve said before, at full stretch can cover me from crotch to collarbone) which has definite impact on my breathing. Since he’s very interested in what Angus is doing, every time I open an eye, I see Ben glaring through my head, his ears back to catch any sound from his rival for monkey ownership. When he notices that I’m still awake, I get a lick across the nose or eyebrow that is probably meant to be reassuring, but mostly just leaves me exfoliated and reeking of cat food.
Eventually my pitiful wheezing gets to be too much, and Ben gets up, strolls down the bed, and lays down, pressed against my right calf. Eighteen inches now separate them, an inter-ankle neutral zone. And there they both go to sleep. And eventually–pinned into place by a pair of feline leg-irons–so do I.
When I woke up, Ben was in his usual spot, and Angus was exploring under the sink, but if this is going to be the usual pattern, I may need to get a bigger bed…