While my northern neighbours are preparing for the advent of spring we are feeling the first twinges of autumn. The mornings are definitely nippier but I have a far more reliable temperature gauge than the cold air against my skin. I own a cat.
As soon as the temperature drops below broiling Issi moves into bed with me. I happen to think there is nothing more comforting than a contented kitty purring happily so I admit I never initially discouraged this habit; quite the contrary. Unfortunately Issi's idea of moving in with me is not the same as mine. I had visions of Issi behaving like most of my cats have & sleeping curled about my feet. Issi is like no other cat we have ever owned. My feet are not for him.
Issi's idea of a good night is to start sprawled across my chest with his head over my heart where he will develop a deep slow~rumbling purr guarrenteed to keep the tiredest person wide awake, with his claws faintly unsheathed to just clutch any exposed skin. Just as I am about to drift off he will leap to his feet, turn round & round on my stomach then collapse into the crook of my arm with his head on my pillow unless he can convince me my shoulder is a better option. From there wafts of contented fishy breath & twitching whiskers assail my nostrils. At least now, being as comfortable as my cat, I can drop into slumber until Dearest comes to bed.
Dearest is a restless sleeper & his threshing about prompts Issi to move to a safer location ~ across my thighs, where he begins to sink slowly between my legs until he has created an exceedingly snug nest for himself. At this point I surface stiff & uncomfortable, extricate my legs from my cat & finally curl into the foetal position I prefer. Issi then draps one large paw over my leg & proceeds to pat me reassuringly. I'm not sure who Issi thinks needs reassuring. I do know the nights it is cold enough for a hot water bottle Issi knows the exact moment when it is cool enough to be it's most comfortable & from that moment on hogs it without a qualm.