Straight Edge Life

Only a cat with experience, skill, discipline and training can do what this cat does. I figure that my bed, a fat king sized thing left over from my divorce, has roughly 5,925 square inches of top-facing surface area. My cat, Fluff Butt, is approximately the size of a football with legs and long fur. About 60 square inches. He weighs less than a gallon of milk and can easily be tucked under your arm when necessary. But whatever he lacks in size he makes up for in sheer cunning and skill. By some miracle of geometry this fluffly little feline has located not the exact center of the bed… no, that would be too easy… he’s located the dead center of the blankets on the bed. He is currently asleep at this point. And since the blankets are all slopped off of one side of the bed Fluff Butt has divided the remaining blanket area into quadrants roughly the size of face towels. Forget that I’ve set aside lavish poofy towels specifically for Fluff Butt and Josie to sleep on. Forget that I even put two pieces of turkey on these towels specifically to entice them… No, Fluff Butt eats only dry cat food and Josie eats her food off the ground. To make it worse Fluff Butt knows that I won’t move him. How could I move him? He’s like 347 cat years old. I’m afraid to pet him let alone wake him from a deep sleep. And so he is… paws twitching as he dreams of catching moths and garden snakes, and I sit here with a hot 12 inch laptop on my legs trying to stay warm. Damn him.