When I was a little girl, I always dreamed about having a cat of my own who would sleep with me and curl up beside me at night. I dreamed that I would reach out in the middle of the night and pet that cat, and it would purr me back to sleep.

I didn't get to live that dream until Punkin was allowed inside so many years ago, but he did sleep on my bed, and I felt that small curled presence of a cat right beside me for the first time.

Now, my bed feels strangely empty when no one deigns to sleep with me at night. That's a rarity, and usually means they are getting into trouble, but there are very few night when I don't have at least one cat curled up next to me, or beside me, or at the foot of my bed, poised to attack my feet as soon as I try to roll over.

And although I might get frustrated with them sometimes (we're working on 'no kitchen table' at the moment, with varying degrees of success--I got tired of my hairy placemat) I wouldn't trade them for anything. There is nothing quite like having Loki remind me to come to bed, or hear him querying in a silent house as to where everyone has gone without him. There's nothing quite like Chloe waking me up to inform me that the upstairs water bowl is empty, or that someone shut the shower door and she can't get in. Or that someone else got into trouble and she wasn't anywhere near it, but she thought she'd let me know.

The other night, I woke up to find that I was laying on my stomach while sleeping. Pooh was pressed against my left side, Chloe was on my right, Loki was in between my legs, and Misty was at the foot of my bed (Zoey doesn't sleep with us.) We managed to sort things out when I tried to move, and then we went back to sleep.

I think they definitely know who wields the can opener in this house, hmm?

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