I’ve been missing you


I don’t know why you’ve not been sleeping in our bed. Did I say or do something that upset you? Did I accidentally hit you in my sleep? Maybe you just prefer the couch lately. I can understand that: I also go through phases when I’d rather sleep downstairs, all warm and snug under the heavy blanket Socks crocheted for me. Too much effort to make the move up the stairs, and yes, the couch is really comfortable.

Whatever your reasons were, I didn’t ask. We value each others’ privacy in this house. But I missed you a lot. I even tried to drop hints, but I wasn’t heard. Too nice, I suppose, too oblique.

Imagine my happiness and surprise this morning to find you snuggled under my blankets with me, your head on my shoulder! I know I am a heavy sleeper, but I thought after so much time apart I would have noticed you sneaking into our bed.

I’m sort of glad I didn’t wake, because I was so pleased to find you there! A fantastic surprise, especially as I got to sleep in and I was fully rested for the first time since last Sunday.

You opened your eyes and looked at me when I removed the covers from your head. I always worry when you do that! How can you breathe? You didn’t say a word, but gave me a happy sigh when I smoothed your hair back and gently touched your cheek. I started to speak, but you put your hand on my lips and held it there as if to preserve the moment, and the silence. When you took your hand away, I smiled and turned to put my arm around your shoulders and hugged you close.

You didn’t mind a bit; in fact you returned the embrace and even snuggled tighter into my side. I was so content, warm and cozy, holding on to the one I love so very much. We stayed that way, hugging, occasionally touching each other’s face, smiling into each other’s eyes.

Until your rotten little brother jumped up on the bed and pounced on your tail, which was peeking out of the blankets and presented too tempting of a target. The moment was lost.

Love you to bits, Spottie-cat! Thank you for a perfect morning.


5 responses »

    • Me too! I was really missing him, he’s been all alone downstairs for weeks. We were mean to him and locked him out of the living room last night, so he had no choice but to come up for warmth. Glad I’m so mean!

  1. I always feel quite bereft when a cat forsakes my bed. Fergie’s been twitchy since I got Torvald and patrols downstairs all night, but I always wake up with my little Nickel Bengal. She sits on me.

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