Last night I woke up and realized that I was being bullied in bed. The man and the Powder cat were on either side of my head so it seemed like my head was in a vice. Freckles was laying horizontally across the bed and had pushed my feet off the bed.

There is no moving either the man or the Powder cat. That is the heaviest 9 lb cat on earth. She’s the definition of an immoveable object. She takes on the density of a black hole at night. It is amazing.

So I sat up and tried to move Freckles. I shook her gently. No response. I whispered to her. Nothing. I picked her up and she didn’t move a muscle while I moved her to lay lengthwise between the man and I. I whispered, “I know you aren’t dead. Quit faking.” She huffed and rolled over thus proving me correct.

I put my head down at the foot of the bed and put my feet between the cat and the guy but I was worried about kicking him in the face because I’m considerate that way. So, I got up and went to Z’s room and laid down on her twin bed.

For a few minutes I was happy. Then I heard the jingle of dog tags. I set myself firmly in the middle of the bed. Freckles jumped up on the bed. I informed her that I Was Not Moving. She had her chance to cooperate. She laid down but her feet her hanging off the bed and guess what? She didn’t like it. Imagine that. She went stomping off back to the big bed. Poor baby.