My girls seem both seem to enjoy playing with my hair while I sleep. And by my girls, I mean my two daughters. And by my two daughters, I mean Cholula (my ferret) and Smartie (my kitty).
Cholula likes to take my hair, “dig” into it, tangle it up into some sort of nest, and sleep in it. Of course, I feel and hear her while she does this, she does it on my pillow just by my ear, and I try my best not to move my head at all while she is sleeping there. It does not matter how uncomfortable I become because these moments are the ones that I will be sure to miss one day.
Smartie’s shenanigans are much more destructive. This smooth criminal likes to bat at my loose hair with her paws, capture a few strands with her claws, and proceed to chew on those strands, sometimes to the point of chewing them off completely. There have been mornings when I wake up with a few wet strands and notice chunks of hair on my bed. Can I please blame all bad hair days on her? It’s the least I should be entitled to, right? I refuse to ban her from my bedroom while I sleep. The poor sweetheart would cry all night if I did. I have tried to sleep with my hair in a braid, but I just can not do it. Ah, well.
Such are the joys of welcoming four-legged critters into your home.
I may as well mention my boys. By my boys, I mean my sons. And by my sons, I mean Canelo (my dog) and Miguel (my other kitty).
Old man Canelo Dog. He is now twelve years old and (thankfully) aging well. He is aging, nonetheless, however, and there are many signs and changes to prove it. It makes me sad to think that the best of his years have already passed and that I may only have a few years with him left. So, this kid can pretty much get away with anything at this point.
He can tear up my sheets, not because he is destructive, but because I now allow him to sleep on my bed while I am away and in an effort to make himself comfortable, he tears at my bed. He can pretty much force me to sleep in the most uncomfortable positions when he is afraid of thunder and wants to sleep on the bed with me. He can stink up my room by going weeks without a bath because he hates them and I don’t want to torture him. He can jump on furniture with his muddy feet because he prefers to just lay down and relax on my comfy couch right after his long walks and I am not quick enough with the paw-wiping. He can get his fur ALL OVER everything around him (my blankets, my clothes, inside my shoes, everything). It is all okay.
My sweet boy. He has paid his dues and has been a wonderful dog throughout his years. I feel as though I am in debt to him. I can not tell you enough how much he means to me.
Then there’s Miguel. Miguel is my fat and lazy cat who does nothing but sleep, eat, and take care of potty business. He is the friendliest cat, with the softest fur and loudest purr, and is the perfect cuddle pet for cold weather. Sometimes, especially when I am tired or stressed, all I want to do is sit on the couch, get lost in mindless television, and pet Miguel while he is loafing on my lap. It’s perfect. I love that fat cat.
So I have begun my year absolutely in love with my critters, thankful for every day with them, and amazed by their little personalities.
Happy new year, y’all.