| Humor Flash Fiction posted January 13, 2021 |
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Paws-n-claws included
Heating Pad with a Purr
by Elizabeth Emerald
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.
My daughter's bedroom door has a cat-flap for the convenience of Bixby and Socks. I often find the pair lounging on my bed during the day; at night one or both frequently wake me by scratching at my door.
I try to ignore them, but when I glimpse a paw frantically scrambling beneath the door, I know resistance is futile.
My visitor is usually Bixby, who has the unfortunate habit of hogging the bed; the moment I permit him entry, he beats me to the punch, spreading himself dead center.
Bixby's claws have an unpleasant tendency of extending themselves into my flesh should I dare to disturb him. I gingerly climb back into bed, giving him as wide a berth as I can manage.
This necessitates squashing my back against the headboard and jack-knifing my legs, from which awkward position I slowly scootch down and unfold myself, taking care not to jostle him or rustle the bedcovers.
The tortuous maneuver leaves me spread-eagled, from which ungraceful position I retrieve the flapped-and-padded hat that I keep under my pillow to protect eyes from claws.
On my back, eyes covered, I eventually drift into restless sleep. Which is invaribly interrupted when Bixby has the audacity to encroach on my crunched-up, supine self ... ever further ...
And thus, for what's left of the night, I remain:
with a twelve-pound pussy sitting on my ...
... chest.
My daughter's bedroom door has a cat-flap for the convenience of Bixby and Socks. I often find the pair lounging on my bed during the day; at night one or both frequently wake me by scratching at my door.
I try to ignore them, but when I glimpse a paw frantically scrambling beneath the door, I know resistance is futile.
My visitor is usually Bixby, who has the unfortunate habit of hogging the bed; the moment I permit him entry, he beats me to the punch, spreading himself dead center.
Bixby's claws have an unpleasant tendency of extending themselves into my flesh should I dare to disturb him. I gingerly climb back into bed, giving him as wide a berth as I can manage.
This necessitates squashing my back against the headboard and jack-knifing my legs, from which awkward position I slowly scootch down and unfold myself, taking care not to jostle him or rustle the bedcovers.
The tortuous maneuver leaves me spread-eagled, from which ungraceful position I retrieve the flapped-and-padded hat that I keep under my pillow to protect eyes from claws.
On my back, eyes covered, I eventually drift into restless sleep. Which is invaribly interrupted when Bixby has the audacity to encroach on my crunched-up, supine self ... ever further ...
And thus, for what's left of the night, I remain:
with a twelve-pound pussy sitting on my ...
... chest.
I try to ignore them, but when I glimpse a paw frantically scrambling beneath the door, I know resistance is futile.
My visitor is usually Bixby, who has the unfortunate habit of hogging the bed; the moment I permit him entry, he beats me to the punch, spreading himself dead center.
Bixby's claws have an unpleasant tendency of extending themselves into my flesh should I dare to disturb him. I gingerly climb back into bed, giving him as wide a berth as I can manage.
This necessitates squashing my back against the headboard and jack-knifing my legs, from which awkward position I slowly scootch down and unfold myself, taking care not to jostle him or rustle the bedcovers.
The tortuous maneuver leaves me spread-eagled, from which ungraceful position I retrieve the flapped-and-padded hat that I keep under my pillow to protect eyes from claws.
On my back, eyes covered, I eventually drift into restless sleep. Which is invaribly interrupted when Bixby has the audacity to encroach on my crunched-up, supine self ... ever further ...
And thus, for what's left of the night, I remain:
with a twelve-pound pussy sitting on my ...
... chest.
 Recognized |
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