So, I had a bad beginning to the week and retired to the Command Chair, where I was ably assisted by all three cats — Belle taking her turn at duty even though she’s been under the weather recently herself. I spent Monday and Monday night in the Command Chair, well-supervised by the world’s furriest nurses.
Tuesday night, I was sufficiently recovered to be able to sleep in the bed with Steve, and, at the beginning of the evening, with Trooper. Everything normal, and off to sleep we all went.
At some point in the early morning, I woke up because Sprite was making the Alas! Lost kitten! Oh! Woe! lament. The configuration of cats at my waking was: Trooper on top of the bookcase next to the bed, snoring. Belle somewhere in the house. Sprite in the doorway of the bedroom, lamenting, as above.
Now, there’s a signal that we use with these cats — I’m not sure, anymore, if it came with them — they having been brought up in a Maine Coon Cattery, and two of them on the show circuit before they retired — or if we adapted a signal I used with Mozart.
Mozart’s signal was one tap-one tap. The signal for the current bunch is two taps followed by one tap, repeat. Both signals mean come here. Snapping my fingers twice means come right here! And, yes, mostly they honor the signals. Not always, of course; they are cats. But mostly.
So, anyway, Sprite was crying, I wanted her to stop and figured if she came to bed, she could be comforted with a cuddle, and I could go back to sleep — so I signaled that she should come here.
Immediately, Trooper jumped down from the high bookcase to the bed, and Belle came rushing in from wherever she had been, and leapt to the bed. They both converged on me, bumping my chin, kneading and purring. Poor Sprite, in the meantime, had advanced to the side of the bed and was looking up at me with wide pitiful eyes, but at least she’d stopped crying.
Finally, she went around to the foot of the bed, jumped up and threw herself across my ankles. Trooper settled on my left shoulder, purring hard, and Belle tucked against my right side, also purring.
Me, I felt embarrassed to have woken them — and Steve, too, by this time — but apparently they had still been on Alert.
Today, I am considerably better, and have been able to work from the Canadian glider and the silent laptop. I’ve had two cats in the room with me at all times, but my sense is that they’re just keeping me company. As they do.
And that’s my cat story for tonight.