So. Cats.

Lucy is an Oriental Shorthair, which means she has very fine, short hair, and is consequently cold all the damn time. Every day, she nags and whines until I put some blankets (That Girl’s old baby blankets) on the bed, so that she can crawl in and sleep the day away in warmth and comfort.

Duncan, who is as large as a mid-sized car, as furry as a bear, and a Pretty Pretty Princess, was getting a little jealous of Lucy’s preferential treatment.

And so it was, the other day, when I walked into the bedroom to find Duncan snuggling up to the bed lump that is Lucy, the big spoon to her little spoon.

P1020804No word on whether or not Lucy approved. Mind you, Duncan’s other attempts to snuggle in the past resulted in him flopping his incredible bulk ON TOP OF the sleeping Lucy, hogging ALL the blankets and thereby causing scrambling cats and flying blankets and wails of protest and no end of upset and tattling from offended parties. So I suppose the fact that she remained, unsquashed, is progress.