When last we left the saga of Tig and the Blanket Monster, he was on his way back toward becoming a bedcat and annoying me up close and personal first thing in the morning. Or so we thought.
Several times in the last week, Tig has come into bed–still all on the left side (Gracie’s spot), and not sleeping in his proper place, and not staying for very long. At six o’clock this morning, he yowled for me to pay attention to him. I did not, except for telling him to shut up or come into bed. He leaped onto my left and settled down, purring. My left arm was on the pillow over my head, and I fell back to sleep quite quickly once Tig curled up and stopped yowling.
Sometime in the next hour, I woke up to an orange, furry projectile leaping over my body, not touching the bed, landing full on the floor and stampeding down the stairs. I have no idea what happened. Either I moved, or Tig thought I moved, or Tig had a dream in which I moved or he thought I moved. And since something or somebody moved, obviously, it was the Blanket Monster, and it was going to eat Tig. And so, he fled. Quickly, and even though he’s several pounds overweight and rather big to begin with, Tig can move fast when he needs to.
Mind you, almost none of this went through my mind this morning. All I know is that I woke up, barely comprehending that he was leaping full over me and the entire bed, and that I was, well, startled myself, to say the least. I lay there a while, trying to figure out what had happened while my still-sleeping brain puzzled over why my heart was thumping. I finally realized that it was Tig leaving in a hurry. Then I went back to sleep.
I’m thinking Tig hasn’t quite gotten over the Blanket Monster yet.
I’m thinking I’m going to lock him out of my bedroom from now on.
Cats.
The Blanket Monster in our home is a thirty-something idiot who puts a blanket over his head and hutns the cats, occasionally making a noise that sounds like a treat bag shaking.