Caveat Lector

Mouser’s scratches are healing, and she’s growing fur back over them; in a week, she’ll look downright respectable. She is still utterly cuddlebuggy. I had to tell her that she can be my necklace while I’m awake, but when I’m trying to sleep, someplace else would be better.

So I woke up this morning on my side, with Mouser perched purring on my shoulder. Kittens. What can you do?

Because I am a wily housemonkey, I put my fleece bathrobe in the laundry and then let Mouser sleep on it for a couple of days. I wore it out into Goth territory this morning. Dream was the first to amble up, whereupon: “*sniff* *sniff* *sniiiiifffff* *sniffsniffsniffsniffsniffsniffsniffsniff* *HISSSSSSS*” I tried to pet him to reassure him, but I only earned another hiss, and he stalked off in highest dudgeon.

Didi duly sniffed as well. No hissing. She wouldn’t sack out on the robe, even though fleece bathrobes are her favorite thing ever, but she did sack out by my knees. And if there’s a treat involved, she’ll put up with anything.

Dream came back and sniffed some more, without the hissing this time. I think we’ll manage. Eventually.