Big Friendly (my husband, for those of you who have come to meganshead only recently) and I started the slide down the slippery slope almost three years ago when we got our pups Frieda and Linus. Up until then I had been successful in keeping our past animals off most of the furniture and all of the bed. But with the arrival of ten week old Frieda and Linus all resolve, reason, and general clarity disappeared. Now everybody is allowed everywhere all of the time.
Sometimes there were more, and sometimes there were less. But, if I was in it there was at least one other being on or in the bed. At night, when Big Friendly was in it too, there was another cat added to the mix. Jasmine now sleeps between us, while Chassie stays close to my feet.
Honestly, I am totally used to it. Some mornings Big Friendly and I have to pretend we are still sleeping because the slightest noise means we are up, and then Frieda and Linus, who have been draped over the couches, bound into our room, jump onto the bed and stand, sit or lie ON us.
When Big Friendly gets up to make coffee I have an ‘animal and me’ lie in.
So, every now and then I get to stay in a hotel room when I travel for work. When I close the door behind me I am utterly alone. No furry body follows me to the bathroom and watches me pee. No feline meows at me to open the shower door. There are no bowls to be filled, no cones of shame to take off or put on, no beady eyes asking for strokes, no Jonesie the part-time cat demanding to be let in then let out then in again. And when I finally climb between the sheets of the standard king in the hotel room, that whole bed, for that night, is mine, completely. There is no fur, no spit, no bloody speck from where Linus chewed his paw. No pulled bits of blanket where Chassie or Jasmine kneaded there furry heads off. No stinky dog or cat breath on any part of my body. No warm but immovable lumps making me contort into an unsleepable position. I say to myself with a gleeful sigh, “Tonight you’re mine, completely,” to a bed. I breathe. I flick through the channels on the hotel TV. I read a few lines on my Kindle. I turn off the light. And lie there. Awake. Alone. With all the space in the world, and missing each warm body.
This post is one of nine tandem blog posts, all with the same topic, and all released at the same time. Please check out the other offerings by these amazing writers.