If you’re a regular reader of my blog, you’ll probably know all about Tuffy-Cat’s persistent quest for warmth and snuggliness during winter. It’s not limited to winter either (as you can see here). It just becomes a right-royal obsession when the temperature drops, the wind roars through the trees, and the rain streams down the window panes.
On the weekend, we found her repeatedly skulking in our bedroom, waiting for us to wander off, or go shopping, or get absorbed by household chores, or whatever… so she could make a nest on the duvet. She knows exactly when the sun’s rays reach the bed and for how long they linger, moving slowly from left to right. Despite me lifting her off repeatedly and even shooing her down the passage into the marginally warmer lounge, she would return to the duvet as soon as my head was turned.
She even tried this little trick: When I walked into the bedroom to check up on her, she would give me a baleful glare (I swear I’m not anthropomorphising!), before leaping onto the narrow window sill. There she’d perch, somewhat precariously, while cleaning herself fastidiously and absorbing the warmth of the sun, gazing at me all innocent-like with her big eyes.
Embarrassingly, I fell for that little trick a few times this weekend. Because I’d no sooner walked out the bedroom door and sat down on my squeaking office chair, when she’d hop across onto the bed once more.
I thought it was a bit much to make a hot water bottle for the cat, as we did a little while ago, so the only way I could lure her out of the bedroom was to switch on the oil heater in the office. I’d even placed one of ‘her’ pillows in front of it. Finally, after much pumping and kneading, twisting and turning, she settled down, purring contentedly while hubby and I clicketied away on the computer until pumpkin-time.
Here you can see a possessive little paw stretched out underneath the heater, unambiguously signalling, “This is mine. Don’t you dare move it!”
I’m just amazed her whiskers don’t get singed….