I’ve been trying to limit the Rosie-posts here, but if it hasn’t become apparent yet, the cat and I are more than a little co-dependent. She more or less lives glued to whatever bit of my anatomy happens to be closest. For the record, my feet, wrists, and hipbones make really fantastic pillows when you only weigh ten pounds.
I’m accustomed to finding her sleeping on my bed whenever I go into my room (regardless of whether or not I’ve been there in the past few hours; it’s really Rosie’s bed which she graciously allows me to use). So when I don’t, I immediately begin a game of Find the Cat, which generally ends on Dad’s bed, in the closet, in her hat box, or occasionally in the kitchen by her food dish.
Sometimes, however, I decide I need to change my shirt mid-game. And then things like this happen:
I suppose it serves me right for leaving my drawers open for days on end.
After all, everything in the room is obviously Property of Rosie, so if she wants to nap on my clean shirts inside of my dresser, then she has every right to do so. And I really should be keeping my room neater than it has been. I used to do a weekly/biweekly tidy which has degenerated to an every four-to-six weeks tidy. Clearly this is not sufficient, though Rosie finds it much more fun when there are things lying around to pounce upon/chew/sit in.
Eh, I’ll clean it up eventually.