Last night, after I got into bed, Jake jumped up onto the bed and laid down so I could scratch him. Gracie got on the bed and apparently concluded that of all of the area of half of a queen-sized bed, that Jake was on the best spot. So she flopped down right on top of him. Jake was outraged and jumped down.
I adopted Gracie 11 years ago, I had adopted George eight months before that. George was just a year old and he was used to getting on my bed at night. He weighed ten pounds. Gracie was maybe sixteen weeks old and she weighed three pounds. The first night, Gracie jumped on the bed and ran George off. It was a long time before Gracie would share my bed with George.
She's not as pushy as she used to be, but she still regards herself as the queen cat.
That Conversation Was A Trip
1 hour ago
3 comments:
Lord, does she complain when they're breathing her air, too?
Sounds like a familiar scene!
I really think she does complain about that, as she sometimes lies there near them and utters sharp yaps.
Maybe it's just me, but all my girl cats have been absolute fucking princesses, and the boys just big fat lumps o'mellow. The late great (and sorely missed) Faridah Peeples had the boys trained. The minute she got on the bed, they got off. The minute she walked in the room they dropped flat on their bellies.
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