Being on the bed

Apricot on the bed!

June 15, 2014 Sunday

Sunday mornings I sort of sleep in; I get up, go for my walk, and then go back to bed. Before the walk part, while I was sleeping, I have a vague memory of having kicked a cat out of bed. Not deliberately in a metaphorical sense. Literally, as in my foot contacted Apricot. 

When I got up the first time, to go for a walk, he was very skittish and didn't want to come out and only was lured out with a treat, and didn't want to be cuddled (I have achieved cuddling twice now, both times last night) and ran under the headboard, acting all scared. 

I think my vague memory must really have happened, and that Apricot didn't understand I was asleep and couldn't help it. This meant that he was on the bed last night (yey!) but that we had experienced a setback (boo). However, he's just going to have to learn that when I'm asleep, I move. Every cat I've had has rapidly learned to sleep on the bed above the level of my waist so I don't kick them. And I've kicked every cat I've had out of the bed at least once, and in some cases multiple times over the years as they forget or test to see if it's safe to sleep on the bottom of the bed again. 

But I did apologize later when I woke up for good around 11 am. He seemed to accept the apology, or at least the emotion in my voice saying I was sorry for something, and he came out for petting and wasn't skittish. (I didn't, however, attempt a cuddle again. Cuddling is when I gather him up into my lap with my arms around him; it's not really a lap cat thing, it's just an 'all the cat is in my arms' thing.)

He went around the corner of the bed, which is usually his way of going back under the headboard the long way, and I was a bit disappointed. I came after, slowly, asking where he was going and if he couldn't possibly stay some more. He hesitated on the other side of the bed. I stopped where he could see me and didn't come closer as he's never let me come close on that side of the bed. And talked to him.

Then he startled me by turning to the bed, tensing briefly and leaping up onto it. Well, there goes my theory that he couldn't jump. 

I was quite happy and said so, in soft happy tones. He wiggled and wanted petting, so I did. He likes rubbing the side of his face against my hands, and likes even more when I do it to him because I can apply more force since I can do both hands on both sides at the same time. Sometimes he'll use a front paw (back ones are still off limits, remember) to guide my hand to where he wants me to pet. 

He seemed so comfortable that I thought perhaps I could push it. He was kneading the quilt like crazy, just like he kneads the floor when I pet him, and unlike the floor, the quilt wasn't exactly going to stand up to a lot of this, not with his claws still cat-sharp. At least they weren't needle sharp.

But I thought I could just possibly clip his claws. I got out the claw clippers and presented them to him. The fact that he stayed put while I straightened up and walked away from the bed and then back to it was promising. He sniffed them and patted them with his paws, and then dismissed them as unimportant. So I showed him that they could move in my hands, open and close. This too was observed and filed away in his database of new things.

Then, talking and explaining the whole time in a calm, steady voice, I took up a front paw and stuck out the first claw and clipped it. There was no reaction from Apricot other than watching this procedure with interest. I moved to the next claw, poked it out and clipped it. Again, no negative reaction. I was amazed, but I got all four claws on each of his front feet. 

There's a fifth claw called a dew claw which is the one on the side of the feet. It's harder to get to and requires a bit more handling of the paw. Since he'd been so good about the regular claws, I decided to go for broke and try for the dew claws.

And he was just fine with it, brave kitty! He did think it was a bit odd, but he let me do it. Honestly, the most difficulty he gave me was accidental on his part. He was still so happy he was still kneading, and his paws would flex unexpectedly under my hands as I was going for a claw.

I put the claw clippers away, telling him we wouldn't have to do that for a week or two, and he had moved into the exact center of the bed by this time, and watched me gravely as I moved about. Well, let's push it one more time. 

Kneading happily

Telling him what I was doing, I hitched myself up on the bed and lay down on the very edge, so I wasn't really close to him. He was still within arms' reach and I petted him and made him happy cat again. I really would have liked to stay there, but my tummy was being quite insistent about lunchtime. So finally I got off the bed (he stayed put) and went out to get something to eat. And when I came back, Apricot was once more under the headboard.