My cat Scout loves me so much that she spends some part of every night head butting me, and often sleeping so close to me that I can’t move, or laying so heavily on my abdomen that I must use the facilities every couple of hours or so.
I complain that she won’t let me sleep.
Then last night, none of the above occurred. Not a single head butt (aka kitty kiss). She never demanded I sleep on my back so she could walk circles on my stomach before making herself a cozy spot atop my bladder. When I turned over to find a different sleeping position I did so without encountering her presence by my side.
It frightened me, this lack of kitty contact.
My first thought this morning was that my almost 17-year-old cat might’ve died. At 5:30 I went in search of this sweet girl, dreading what I might find. But my worries were groundless. As soon as I left the bedroom I discovered her padding along behind me to the kitchen for her breakfast as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
I was reassured, but my feelings were hurt. Had she forgotten about our non-sleeping arrangement?
Deciding to give her a chance to redeem herself, I crawled back into bed and called her name. She’s making amends even as I type this.
Maybe she just needed her space. Relationships are like that sometimes.