This is going to be short because I’m typing with one hand. My right hand has the very important task of scritching Oliver’s butt. He’s also laying on my arm. Priorities.
I often talk about Oli waking me in the night, generally for breakfast. But last night, it was the brown kitten that needed something. It wasn’t food.
I’d been sleeping pretty deeply when I was woken by someone patting my forehead. I reached up to pet Oliver, but he wasn’t laying in front of me. No one was in front of me. When he patted my forehead again, I realized that Obi was sitting up on the headboard. “Hey buddy,” I whispered. He hopped down and headbutted me. He let me pet him for a couple minutes.
When he was done getting pets from me, he climbed over my should and did something to solicit pets from The Boy. The Boy, it seems, can pet a cat in his sleep because he didn’t really remember it this morning. Petting is an instinct.
When he was done getting pets from his people, Obi climbed back on to my shoulder and walked down my side and over my legs to where Oliver was sleeping. “Mrph,” Oliver said. I felt the plunk of a brown kitten on my feet. Then I heard licking.
A moment later, the brown kitten was up and gone. He’d filled up on love and went back to sleep on the best box. What? You thought he’d sleep on the bed? Don’t be silly.