Sometimes it feels like a game of Musical Laps around my house. There are three cats. Two laps. In general, Silas (our Gentleman Cat In Residence) generally opts for his cozy well padded bed by the wood stove. That leaves two laps and two cats. All should be well in TV Land. Except that somehow my lap has become the Primo Most Desired Real Estate.
This means, when the TV goes on, there is a run for my lap.
So sometimes what we get is the scene in Caturday's Christmas picture.
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In our home, cat (and dog) time is when Wolf and I sit down to watch some boobtube at night.
First, Wolf and I sit on the couch and call Jaxsun over to lay down between us. Then I pull the "magic blanket" down from atop the couch. I place it over me and Caesar comes up, looking for love. After a few minutes, he gets up and leaves and Francesca comes on my lap. She too will leave after suffient petting and Harley replaces her. Once he is satisfied with the appropriate chin scratching, he moves over to Wolf's lap, Caesar comes back to mine, and Francesca lays down on my legs.
But none of this happens if there is no magic blanket, including the summer.
Our cats are not usually lap cats. Sasha and Lyra love the space in between us on the sofa, but Lyra is not willing to share, so they occupy the space one at a time. Sergei is a shoulder cat; he crawls up onto Paul's chest and rests his head on Paul's shoulder.
This last week Brendan and Fergus have been switching off every other night who gets me. Fergus knew last night was his turn and he was waiting when I was ready to sit down. Then, of course, I can't move all night.
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