Waking Up to Danger

Two cats that hate each other, in one bed, on top of me. That spells d-a-n-g-e-r, with a capital “D”.

This morning I had a near-death experience. Somehow, after Rochelle had left for work, both Billie and Basta ended up on the bed with me, with nothing more than a blanket between them.

It started out safe enough, with Billie under the covers, stretched across my chest. Then Basta jumped onto the bed, in her best ready-for-combat fashion, and I had to wake up fully to avoid being shredded to ribbons (we don’t clip any of the cats’ claws).

Basta, after sniffing around, settled in the crook of my arm, right next to Billie. Literally only the thickness of two blankets separated them. They both knew the other was there, as Billie heard Basta’s chittering and purring, and Basta had obviously smelled Billie.

The usual course is for Billie to slink out of bed and flee. For some reason that didn’t happen today. I was sure it could only end badly if both stayed, but after 20 minutes of both cats purring loudly and contentedly, it was me who finally needed to get out of bed to go to work. Somehow I managed that without starting a cat fight over my body. Or I would be going to the emergency room instead of the office.