Several times in the past few weeks, people have said to me, “You might have sleep apnea.” I’m not exactly sure how this relates to my attack of numbness that scared me into the hospital two weeks ago, but it seems to be a recurring diagnosis by both non-experts and experts. In my follow-up visit with my GP today, he said to me, “You might have sleep apnea.” Something to do with that affecting the nerves. I said no, I have cat apnea.
I do not sleep with my bedroom door closed. I will not sleep with it closed. Ever. Because I have two cats that think it is their God-given right to sleep in my bed, whether or not I am in it. Gracie will stand next to my bed at 5 a.m. and yowl for me to wake up and pet her. Tig goes her one better by jumping into bed and yowling into my ear for me to wake up and pet him.
This morning, I was unwilling to get out of bed, and Tig wanted me to pet him. He stood on the left side of the bed and yowled. I ignored him. He jumped into bed and yowled in my left ear. I ignored him. He jumped over me and yowled—literally, I am not kidding—in my right ear. I ignored him. He started pawing at my shoulder. I ignored him. Finally, he settled himself down by wrapping himself around my head on the pillow, sighing and waiting for me to get up.
I keep a collection of shoes beside my bed for the express purpose of tossing in Tig’s general direction when he yowls at me in the middle of the night. I have learned to wake up enough to push Gracie out of the bed (she stands right on the edge on my left) when she wakes me at five. Usually. Sometimes I’m so tired and out of it that she gets what she wants—I pet her until I fall back asleep.
When I stay over Heidi’s, I have the most restful sleep of the year. And that’s including letting Sparty, her miniature poodle, sleep in the bed with me. He is the best damned bedpet I’ve ever had. He falls asleep in one spot and doesn’t move until you wake up the next morning. My biggest problem with him is that he thinks my pillow is his spot, so I often have to move him before going to sleep. But that’s it. We’re done. No noise, no motions, nothing. Blissful quiet at night.
I don’t have sleep apnea. I have cat apnea.
Cat round head is a particularly good move, followed closely by cat hanging over head from headboard and patting one on face until waking is procured.
heh. Thats pretty funny. Unless it is 5am in the morning.
A cat I used to babysit would stand on my sleeping body and slowly… oh so slowly … dig his claws into me.
I just love the irritated look Gracie’s giving Tig. “Don’t look so smug, you fat dope–I’m still prettier.”
My big fat furry guy also likes to wake me up anywhere between 3 and 5 am for his morning walk to the vittles. Then I can go back to sleep for a couple more hours.
My parents’ Maine coons – at least the little one – quickly learned how to land on the feet against a wall, and then rotate to land safely on the floor.
Then, they learned not to yowl while on the bed.