Cuddlebugs

Cuddlebugs, snuggle-bunnies, whatever term is used, I've got 'em.  I cannot sit down anywhere without an immediate response from Ralph and Celeste, and sometimes Bessie Anne.  Boots may be made for walking, but laps are definitely made for cuddling.  I've explained that I may only be sitting for a minute, but it matters not.  I've tried perching on the edge of the chair, elbows on knees to hide the lap, but Celeste will stretch across my forearms.  Any port in a storm, she says.  Ralph headbutts his way to where he wants to be, regardless.  Bessie sits by my feet and whimpers piteously, "What about me?," until I lift her up.  I'm a sucker for puppy eyes.

Bedtime is a group activity.  Bessie's stumpy legs won't get her up on the bed so she is given a boost.  She lies down on my pillow until she gets a back and shoulder massage.  I often wish she could return the favor.  Relaxed, she moves over to her pillow and only then can I slip in.  As soon as the lights are out, Celeste and Ralph sneak up and plant themselves firmly cuddled up together against my legs.  Do they honestly think I won't notice them?  Ten- to thirteen-pound cats suddenly become the weight of boulders, immovable objects, and the blankets are nailed down.  I cling to my allotted space on the edge of the bed, and so goes the night.

The goats huddle rather than cuddle together in wet weather, and they did a lot of huddling again yesterday.  I know we need the rain, but I'd much prefer smaller doses.  Four or five days in a row is a bit much, and my jackets and bibbies aren't getting dried out between feedings.  The wood stove is struggling to keep the dampness out.  I think I might need to replace the catalytic converter because it's hard to keep a fire going up into the "burn zone."  The converter has a secondary air inlet vent and I've got that sucker nearly wide open, to no avail.  A low burn creates more creosote in the chimney.  Crum.

Even with the rain all day, the morning offering of acorns was gone by nightfall.  This plan is working!

I'm having to make a lot of corrections today.  Ralph put a paw gently on my shoulder and when I turned in the chair, he jumped from the bed to my lap.  He is lying across my forearms and I'm peeking across his back to the screen.  As someone or other said, "A cat is a cat and that is that."  Cats are cuddlebugs.