You all know how much I love my cats,. But even my patience was tried last night as I tried to budge a 12 lb. cat just an inch or two to the left so I could have a smidge of sleeping room.
She wasn't having it. She dug her claws into our bedspread and went completely limp, adding I think a good 10 lbs to her body weight with her "I'm a dead cat" feint.
She was lying between Blair and myself, down around our knees. It was 2 AM and Blair had rolled over, pulling most of the covers with him. I gave a gentle tug and he released them, but I needed her highness to move in order to pull the covers over to my side.
I tapped her with my foot. "Hey, move it," I whispered.
She pretended as if she hadn't heard me.
I sat up and scratched her ears, trying to charm her into moving. That was a no go, so I tried to pick her up but as I said, she proceeded to act as if the lifeforce had drained out of her and went completely limp. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a grip on a deadweight cat?
So I turned mean (hey--it's 2 AM and I'm tired) and started shoving at her with my feet under the covers until she finally moved.
I went to sleep with a satisfied smirk on my face...