Sleeping with the enemy!
(Mom is the enemy. She always wants to cuddle)
A love story, by me:
When I get in bed at night, Pokey always obliges me with a cuddle for a minute or two. She immediately crawls over to me and flops on top of me, nuzzling her head against my neck and sighs deeply. As I lie there in the darkness with the weight of this furry 20 pound kettlebell melting into my face and torso, my heart soars with delight and immeasurable gratitude for my beautiful ball of fluff.
And then, just as my heart is exploding with euphoria, all of a sudden, it's over. As if I have suddenly become repugnant, she pushes herself away from me, jabbing her front paws into my windpipe as she puts all the weight of her fatness onto my throat to raise herself. She flops over next to me on the bed, her body angling away from me, but always with her bum facing my head. And then, relieved to be free of the cuddle, her body relaxes, her stress melts away, and she lets out a silent but potent fart as she drifts into a deep snory slumber... All the while blissfully unaware that I lie there gasping to breathe through my crushed windpipe in the now farty cloud she has created around my head, all the feelings of gratitude I had from seconds ago.. still there. For despite the rejection, the suffocation, the gassing... I live for the few minutes of cuddles I get from my beautiful little girl. Because I know that I am the only person in the whole world that Pokey would ever flop on top of and nuzzle against, even if only for a few minutes. And that makes me most special person in her world
