My Cat Snores Under My Bed

My cat snores under my bed...

Let me explain.

My family and I have a happy, mostly well-ordered life.  We live in a nice home, in a small town near the kids' school.  We happily adopted a lovely cat a year or so ago; his name is Ronnie. 

Ronnie acts like a "normal cat."  He's not overly affectionate, yet he watches over everything, shows up for dinner, and well, he poops regularly.  (Cleaning up is my job.)  When he deigns to stay nearby, he will only perch himself on my bed if the covers are pulled away and he has a clear area of bedsheet upon which to lie. 
And yes, I do this for him.  Sometimes in the morning, I'll make my bed, except for his corner, as to not disturb his sleep as he rests on the sheet.  Silly? Yes. But I love my cat.

This story is actually about another cat; his name is Johnnie.  You see, before Johnnie, life here with a boy, a girl, a husband and wife, was very predictable.  Each day continued, pleasant day after day, homework assignment after assignment, visits to the beach, soccer games, birthday parties, and so on. 

One day my neighbor Bev called to say "I think I've got your cat."  She'd found a little stray that looked much like Ronnie.  At the foot of my bed I saw Ronnie so I knew it wasn't him, but I told Bev I'd come down and look him over anyway. 

Bev introduced me to this lovely little cat, almost a kitten; he was affectionate and kind, and apparently far away from home.

I took him in my arms and he immediately rubbed his little face against my cheek -- I was hooked.  So, I took Johnnie home, fed and cleaned him and settled him into our house.  Amazingly, Ronnie took to Johnnie right away.  They're now best friends. I had expected major cat fights...misery...damage...something.

I called the Animal Control and reported the lost kitten, just in case someone was looking for him.  I was prepared for my husband to say "This is a one cat house."  Which is exactly what he did say that evening.  So, I simply asked my husband that he tell the kids that I'd take the cat to the pound the next day.  I would've done it, yet I was loathe to do so.  He was loathe to tell the kids about taking away the new kitten.  During this conversation, my husband was seated at his desk.  Johnnie jumped into his lap, nuzzeled his face, then planted both forefeet on the computer keyboard and proceeded with an intense inspection of the computer screen.  My husband was hooked.

So, Johnnie stayed.

Johnnie is now an amusing member of our household.  Not predictable, not standoffish, he's a welcome change in our home.

You see, Johnnie will chase or play with anything.  He's deeply in love with long shoelaces, water running from faucets, and he tears into bags of all kinds to see what's inside.  He also goes to sleep anywhere.  Last week I found him in the bathroom sink - literally.

Lately Johnnie has taken to sleeping in a sort of drawer under MY bed.  I've stored a blanket knitted by my great-great grandmother in there; it's waiting for me to repair the holes grown from time. As it waits for my attention, it's boxed up under the bed.  Johnnie discovered it as a lovely place to sleep.

Okay, I really don't mind...except this cat SNORES!  Loudly!  There are nights when I find Johnnie on my chest, licking my face, waiting for attention.  More often I wake to this hollow sound echoing from underneath my bed...that's him.  As a light sleeper, I can't stand it for very long.

Ronnie watches the spectacle superiorly from his perch at the end of my bed as I climb under the bed, drag out the box, roust the cat, and them crawl back into bed.  Thank heavens he doesn't snore!