I have good news and I have bad news. First the good news: Nama is really starting to fit in. Now, the bad news: again, Nama is really starting to fit in. Unfortunately, she is now starting to fit into what was left of my space on the bed.
It was bad enough with Charlie crammed up against my left side, but now Nama had insinuated herself between Charlie and I. At best, this is not a good situation but my problems are exacerbated as she tends to sleep on her right side. This leaves my tender vegetation fully exposed to her incredibly sharp white toenails, and she has a tendency to dream that she is charging cheetah-like across the plains of the Serengeti.
As poor Marco likes to sleep under the covers on my right flank, he is also negatively affected by these developments. As I migrate to the west to escape Nama’s encroachment into what is left of my territory, Marco is sometimes pushed into the abyss. His pitiful little “thud” as he hits the canyon floor far below serves to draw the attention of another apex predator: Mom’s cat. Bassa Khan the Genghis Khitty has grown into a the perfect-sized playmate for Bilbo and Nama, but the diminutive Marco is no match for the feline’s predatory characteristics. The sound of Marco’s toenails frantically scrambling up the the bedside ramp with Bassa in close pursuit alerts the rest of the inmates that it’s “go time”, and then the bedroom once again becomes a battlefield. This is when Mom and the uber-chill Titus usually vacate towards more peaceful environs, leaving me to deal with the aftermath of the Casa’s nightly Armageddon.
If anyone imagines that I am in any way exaggerating the situation to garner un-warranted sympathy, consider the accompanying photo taken just this morning. You will see what consists of my meager portion of bedtime real estate being usurped by Nama and Charlie.
They say that there is no rest for the wicked; I had no idea that I was this wicked; it’s always a party at the Casa del Whackos.
