In My Own Voice #33: We Need a Sofa Upstairs

A few good things have come from having my family around more: they added soft, comfy furniture to the porches and they took down the gate at the bottom of the stairs. 

At night, I wait until the lights go out, then I climb the stairs and check to make sure everyone is tucked in.

Sometimes the wait is short. Other nights, I settle in for a long, post-evening-walk snooze. When I wake, I give myself a shake sending the tags around my collar clanging. Then I saunter into the hall to see if the light is on. 

If it looks like it’s going to be a late one, I’ve found it’s easiest to take a nap in the hall. The darkness when the light goes off wakes me. Better than having to get up repeatedly and check.

Then I give myself a full body wiggle to work out the kinks, and tip tap upstairs. If they’d put down a carpet, I could climb the stairs more quietly. Hint, hint.

If everyone is where they should be, the only door that’s open is at the end of the hall. As I meander toward it, I suss out the situation: if the room is still and dark, I sneak in, circle a few times to find the best spot, and stretch out on the carpet. But usually, the woman is curled in a chair reading a book.

On those nights, I thrust my head in her lap, the universal signal for her to rub my back. By gradual degrees I ease further and further from the chair until I have coaxed her on to the floor, so she can more easily reach my tummy. I don’t want her to get a crick from contorting her body to reach my tummy from the chair!

Then and only then can I truly relax. Sometimes she brings her book. I allow it as long as she doesn’t get so caught up that she forgets to pet me.

I used to spend the entire night upstairs. However, the novelty of sleeping with family has worn off. Plus, too many times to recount, the man has stepped on me! He has APPALLING night vision. 

The sharp, unexpected pain from a heavy foot to the tail or paw is NOT a good way of being woken from slumber.

Then there’s the carpet in their room. It’s scratchy. I don’t understand how they stand it. And, no matter how much I pull and tug, it doesn’t scrunch up into a nice pillow like the carpet in the kitchen. They did put a towel on the floor for me, but it’s not the same. 

Given that the porches now have sofas, don’t you think they should put a sofa upstairs too? 

It’s hard to say no to a sofa.