This morning I had to get up at 4 AM to take my grandmother-in-law to the airport. So - needless to say - I started getting ready for bed around 8pm. Took a shower, washed and dried my frizzy head, and climbed into bed.
Shortly thereafter, Phoebe hopped in with me. She wanted attention - I wanted to just go to sleep. Phoebe was very adament about it - going so far as to put her cold wet nose on mine and snorting kitty juicies all over me. I jumped up, ran to the bathroom, tripping over a hanger on the way, and washed my face, again. When I had removed all traces of cat snot from my face (having animals is FUN!), I went back to bed, turning my back on my furry companion. She, not being one to let live and let die, took to sniffing the back of my head -and then - in a flurry of feline fury - she BIT THE HELL OUT OF MY NOGGIN'! I squealed, flipped a pillow at her and knocked over the glass of water that was resting on my bedtime table. I used a pile of mismatched socks that were waiting to be mated to mop up the water. Just as I was about to lay back down, I noticed something odd about my pillow. There was a cat on it. Hmmmph. Figuring out, not a moment to soon, that I was beaten, I found another pillow, squished it up and put it under my head. I was now on Harry's side of the bed - not in my territory.
Phoebe let out a sniff of contentment and reached out one furry paw to poke me on the shoulder. Maybe it was a sympathy pat - or maybe she was kicking me while I was down - either way - we called a Truce.... for now.