Misty's diary: ridiculous new bedtime arrangements

Oh, we had such a storm in a teacup here the other day.

The little dog was in a state. That’s the funny ginger one the domestics call “Toffee” though there’s nothing sweet about her when she catches your tail, let me tell you.

“They’re taking my home away! Where am I supposed to sleep tonight?”

She was always trying to get out,
but missed the pen when it went

The domestics were taking her pen apart. It was where she’d slept ever since she turned up and made our lives such hell.

Sorry. Luci tells me I shouldn’t talk that way about her. Ever since she turned up and added her special brand of charm and spice to our lives.

That means the same thing, by the way.

Anyway, she seemed worried when the domestics took her pen away. Though nothing like as worried as I felt she ought to be.

“They’re probably sending you away somewhere else. They’ve probably noticed what a pain in the backside you are. It took them long enough, after all.”

She gave me a look she probably thought was withering, but with those puppy dog eyes, she just can’t do it.

“Don’t be silly. They wouldn’t do that,” she said, but she didn’t sound sure.

“No, don’t be silly, Misty,” Luci jumped in, “of course, they’d never do that. You know how fond they are of you. After all, they even let you drive me off their laps. I’m sure they’ve got plans for you.”

“Just what I was saying,” I reassured Toffee, “they’ve got plans for you.”

It was great to see how little reassurance my words gave her.

Of course, I knew what their plans were. There was a time, back in the dim and distant past, so remote I can barely remember it, when things were properly ordered in our family. The dog of the time, Janka, used to sleep on the floor in the bedroom, and I slept on the bed. Well, the domestics did kick me out occasionally. I do like to sleep on things, and legs are great if you can’t get bellies. But the domestics would sometimes get shirty about my sleeping on them and boot me out.

Otherwise, I slept on the bed, and a very fine place it was too, for a cat who knows what’s due to him.

But then Luci showed up. She took my place! Imagine. A smelly, snivelling dog got my place of honour on the bed.

I could see what was going to happen with Toffee. They were taking her pen apart so she could join them on the bed too. And that’s exactly what’s happened. So now there's absolutely no chance of my ever getting back to my rightful place on top of the duvet.

Bedtime, these days

I still had to laugh, though. That little Luci has competition now. And Toffee, she’s a tough competitor. It’ll be interesting to see who gets the best position in the bed, up near the domestics’ heads, once things have settled down a bit.

Meanwhile, at least downstairs life is peaceful these days. No Toffee jumping up and down in her pen at the crack of dawn, clamouring to be let out. Now she can just jump up and down on the domestics and show them what a mistake they made when they chucked me out in favour of dogs. Kicking a cat out to let dogs in. What were they thinking of?

“See?” Toffee said, “they didn’t send me away.”

“No,” I agreed. “I never thought they would, more’s the pity. But I told you they had plans for you, didn’t I? And they did, didn’t they?”

I’ve never seen her at a loss for words before. It was fun to walk away while she was trying to work out an answer. And failing.

At least the new arrangements give me a little peace
And that's all I crave