When I go to bed each night, the cats join me. Torgi is a snuggle addict, but I have no illusions about Zen’s reasoning: she knows I throw off heat like crazy, and she is a Southern belle who requires a much higher ambient temperature than Scotland can usually manage. Torgi defers to Zen’s preference to sleep on my hip, and so he usually exiles himself to the end of the bed.
Lately, he’s been getting very brave, and Zen accommodates. He moves up to the pillow and curls himself next to my head, and Zen doesn’t cross the DMZ of my upper torso.
Something changed in the middle of the night, though, and I woke up this morning to a landmark moment: Zen and Torgi, sleeping next to one another. Touching. And not hissing or hitting each other.
They even stayed that way long enough for me to snap a photo. Are our old only-children finally becoming siblings?
Nah. Zen bit Torgi’s tail a second later, and he made a Walter Matthau grumble and took off. But I can dream …
In completely unrelated news, a few of my work colleagues have now confirmed that I have plans for the holiday break even though FunkyPlaid is out of town.
I … talk about the cats a lot.
Writing from: the lounge, now smelling like cinnamon-scented pinecones. Post title from: “My Evil Twin” by TMBG. Listening to: on Rdio’s suggestion, Leona Lewis’ holiday album. Why is she singing all the notes? She should save some notes for the other songs. So many notes, Leona.