Corrie used to have her feelings hurt by the fact that our cat, Tuxedo, when he would curl up with us when we went to bed, would curl up next to me. I would end up in a cuddly sandwich between Corrie and Tux.
Tux was outside the covers though, actually on top of them, and if you've ever seen our cat, you'll know that that means something. By the morning the inert bowling ball covered in soft fur that is Tuxedo could have been rolled off the bed and onto the floor and barely register it.
Since we've had our furnace blaring (it has actually dipped under fifty!) Tux has spent the majority of the time in front of it.
That's not a hap-hazard exaggeration. The furnace has some issues of it's own, like being on constantly, but during the many moments that it blasts, literally the only things that could drag Tux away from it is food and a trip to his shit box.
I even wrote a post about it last month.
Tux totally abandoned curling up with us while the heaters on, and now Corrie and I get it. He doesn't like me better, as Corrie always feared.
He just likes the warmth.
I'm a bit of a heat generator while asleep.
And awake, too, I guess.
Tuxedo, always the selfish and shrewd little big guy.
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