About sleeping with the enemy

Okay, most of the time our pets aren't our enemies, but I couldn't resist that header.

Although when your cat wakes you up at a 5 a.m. by repeatedly banging his head against your hand, wanting to be petted, his allegiances can be questioned.

And when he settles on your feet, like a breathing fur carpet, and refuses to budge, making you feel guilty for wanting to move your feet even though they have entirely lost all feeling, and you end up kicking him off, well, that seems like a passive-aggressive kind of attack to me.

And the gift that keeps on giving--that beautiful, long, white fur that everyone exclaims over. What a beautiful cat! they say. What a walking hair-ball! you think. Because the very attribute that makes ole Sammy both stunningly attractive and imminently pet-able, makes him a housekeeping nightmare. (He looks just like this»)

Because the spot he really like to nap on, at the end of my bed ... is the same place I sit to put my shoes on. Consequently, my butt and Sammy end up looking like twins. And I'm the ugly one.

Speaking of butts, friend Beth told the story yesterday of sleeping with their new dog. Who's not supposed to be on the bed at all. But who is getting spoiled big-time by her new people. And who started out the night in her OWN bed on the floor...but who was back on the Posturepedic by 2 a.m...and by wake-up time, was right at pillow level. Only it wasn't her head on the pillow. It was her...tail end. Good morning, family!

Well, that's the tail end of that. What are you thinkin' about our furry bedfellows?