Last night I realized that fact as I participated in very specific tasks that were both comforting and humorous at the same time.
As I snuggled down into my bed, with my sheets and blankets the way I like them and my pillows arranged in their very specific spots, I start to laugh and think about how I got to this point.
My cat (sitting on the body pillow next to me) is giving me the Snoopy Vulture look, waiting for our routine to continue.
It’s very specific. I’d go off schedule but he won’t let me.
It starts around 10:30 pm with him tracking me down in the house and then proceeds to yell at me. Meow. Meow. Meow. MEOW!
Which means “hey human, it’s bed time. Bed time. Now! It’s bed time! Let’s go!”
I yell “Meow!” Back at him which means “Hold your horses, I’m coming!”
He follows me into my bedroom and watches me go OCD on my blankets and pillows. Only when I’m done fluffing everything will he join me.
After he settles in and looms over my head like Snoopy Vulture, I proceed to scratch his face and neck. I whisper sweet nothings to him about how he’s a good boy. I rub his ears and watch him melt into a fuzzy puddle on the pillow.
That’s the sign he’s done and I can now go to sleep.
I wait for the verbal queue that he’s relaxed which sounds like an old man saying “Hmmmmmmmmmmmm.”
I smile because my day is now complete.
