Tig and the Blanket Monster

A few weeks ago, just after my mother’s visit, I was washing sheets and blankets. When I brought them upstairs, Tig followed me. Tig loves when I make the bed, because he loves running under the sheets as I flap them and put them on the bed. He plays Cave Kitty until he gets bored, or falls asleep.

Apparently, something happened the last time he played Cave Kitty. In fact, I think it’s possible that the Blanket Monster tried to eat Tig. Little did I know when I shot this picture that as soon as I left the room, something sinister would occur. Alas, poor Tig, innocent to the fate that would befall him.

So here’s the thing. I put on the fitted sheet without letting Tig under it. Then I put on the flat sheet, waiting until Tig was comfortably esconced. I tucked in the edges at the foot of the bed. Then I put on the light blanket I sleep with during the summer, watching Tig turn into a happy, purring, blanket-covered lump not unlike the one you see in this picture:

And that, I thought, was the end of that.

Except that Tig stopped sleeping in my bed again. He did this once before, for several months, a long time ago. I assumed the last time that Maintenance Guy, whom I had called to try to find a squirrel in my attic (shut up), had frightened Tig. But now I think I was dead wrong.

Now I think what happened was Tig fell asleep, curled happily underneath the sheet and blanket. When he woke up, he tried to get out from under them, but went in the wrong direction–toward the ends that were tucked underneath the mattress. Then, feeling trapped, Tig went a little bit insane until he finally figured or fought his way out of the blanket. As a result, he held the bed in deep distrust and refused to sleep on it again.

Since Rosh Hashana, Tig has been sleeping on his kitty condo, or in a box downstairs, or on my shelf. He hasn’t slept in the bed at all, and washes himself compulsively the second he comes into the bedroom to try to talk me out of the Blanket Monster every day. At most, he’s been standing on the left-hand side of the bed, yowling piteously for me to get out of bed (generally at 6 a.m., the bastard) while refusing to jump in bed himself. Gracie, of course, has been glorying in being the only bedcat, and sleeps wherever she wants, including on his side of the bed.

Last week, he leaped into bed, jumped over me, and leaped out. A day or two later, Saturday, come to think of it, he was yowling at me to wake up at 7 a.m. I ignored him. He jumped into bed on my left side (Gracie’s spot), stayed for a minute or so of petting, then leaped out of bed, washing his shoulder.

This morning, he jumped into bed, stayed to let me pet him, and rolled over for a bellyrub.

I think he has forgiven the Blanket Monster again. At least, until the next time the goofball falls asleep underneath the blanket and can’t figure out which way is the exit. I expect he’ll sleep with me tonight like he usually does, or if not, within the next few days. Now I can look forward to his walking over to my head and yowling in my ear for me to wake up and pet him. At 6 a.m.

As Lair likes to say: Cats!