Cats Not Allowed In My Bedroom

i’ve never allowed any of my cats in my bedroom. my sleep is imperative and i need to remain undisturbed as much as possible (i’m constantly sleep-deprived, so i try to limit things that wake me up as much as possible). moreso…no cat hair on my bed!

that said…my bedroom door is always closed. the rare times that i accidentally leave it open, i arrive to find a kitty standing at the threshold peering inside at all the wonders of the world (through their eyes). unexplored territory with their daddy’s smell throughout…but they don’t cross the threshold.

when i first got butter (he’s almost 18 now!), he ran into my room the first chance he got when he was a newbie. immediately ran under the bed, of course. and it’s impossible to hand-reach a cowering cat underneath a king size bed with barely room enough for an arm to blindly feel around, so i used the “scare the shit out of him with extremely loud sounds” technique. he bolted out and never went in again (after a few more tries and scoldings)

if i’m just running into my bedroom to grab something real quick, i sometimes won’t close the door to latch close…it’s just cracked open a tad. tommy will nudge his head against the door and stick his head in…but won’t come inside.

it’s very funny to see, actually. i don’t carry my phone around with me, so i can never get a pic. one day, perhaps.

every morning i get up…for 4 years now….tommy sits outside my bedroom door in the hall and waits for me to get up and come out. he head butts my legs to death, gets petted, and follows me downstairs to do our morning socializing, get fresh food/water, and still doesn’t understand that i need an hour of coffee/wake-up time before i can play with him. butter, however, has learned to give me an hour to wake up. after i’ve been up an hour, butter starts meowing at me for attention.

it’s the only part of my days that i love. it’s the only joy, happiness, and love i experience or want anymore.

there’s so much love between us, i simply can’t put it into words to reflect its perfection and how carthartic they make me feel.

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Author: allen

just a country boy with a city mind who's gay, loves cats, humor, language, and so much more.

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