The Otis Feed

One should never doubt the feline instinct.

Evfurry evening, after my mother has finished her fussy routine of tidying up the house, she attempts to sneak ovfurr to the couch and interrupt my ever-so-peaceful “befurr bed” cat nap in the hopes that I will suddenly become her “snuggle man.” She asks this of me in her obnoxious cat-mom whispurring-style voice as usual.

Admittedly, I feel well, sort of badly about this. Mostly because I used to snuggle with her a lot more in my youth. The truth is I’m older now, and like many elder statesmen, I enjoy my own space — at my own pace. To make things even more uncomfortable, my father is secretly my favfurrite human and I much prefer becoming any version of a “snuggle man” with him.

However, I am nothing if not a sportsmen and this little game of cat and mouse has made for a good compurromise that benefits all parties. So, in the early morning hours, I do in fact become mother’s “snuggle man.” However, I have made sure to do this just as Mom’s alarm clock goes off.

Dad is already out of bed by this time, so he’s none the wiser that I am snuggling with mom, and Mom can’t stay in bed too much longer, which means I get to steal her nice warm spot AND she tucks me in!

A resounding win-win fur me!

Lets just say Mamma isn’t raising any fool and I wasn’t born yesterday — not even in cat years.