Every night when we go to bed, the bulk of the pillows end up on the floor next to the bed. I only use one (more often none) of them for actual sleeping, so they sit there on the floor until I make the bed in the morning.
One night as the Pirate and I were lying in bed just before going to sleep when we heard the cat at the side of the bed making a sort of chirping noise. We peeked over the side of the bed and there's the cat. He's up on the pillows, and he's managed to bunch one up under him. He's holding part of it with his teeth, he's got his front paws around it, and he's having his wicked way with it.
The Pirate and I did a sort of double take. "Ewww! He's not...Is he?" "It sure looks like it." "So, um...what do we do? Do we leave the room? Take the pillow away from him?" "Do you want that pillow back?" "Good point."
It was all over pretty quickly, and after smoking a little catnip cigarette, he left.
The next night the pillows were still on the bed and the Pirate and I were sitting up in bed under the covers doing a crossword puzzle. We heard the chirping again, and suddenly the Pirate was shaking his leg violently, yelling "Get him off my foot!"
We realized after a while that it wasn't all the pillows, or just any pillow. He had a favorite. We figured it was harmless, it made him happy, we'd just let him do his thing and not mention it. Sort of like when your two-year-old starts masturbating at the dinner table.
So, we came back from our little jaunt to LA to find his pillow out in the living room. Not just out in the living room, but right in front of the fireplace. Apparently, while we were out, he was having himself a little fireside romance. But apparently, our cat is a lover of some discernment. It wasn't just the pillow dragged out by the fire. Next to it was a dress of my daugher's. A little red velvet dress with long sleeves cuffed with maribou feathers dyed to match.
So, he's dressing his little girlfriend up, too.
I looked around, half expecting to see some little used kitty condoms or one of those airline-sized bottles of champagne, but I guess he got rid of those. The dress itself was lying to one side like it had been taken off in a hurry and tossed aside. Okay, maybe it was just that he couldn't drag it that far, but still.
Now, where was the other one? Where was our little girl kitty during this sordid night of cat-on-pillow debauchery? Well, she might have been under one of the beds, her little paws pressed over her ears thinking "I'm not hearing this. I'm not hearing this." She may have been holding the video camera.
Frankly, I think she was sitting, snug under the coffee table thinking "Better you than me, sweetheart."
I have been thinking about whether or not we should put a stop to this illicit romance. The one thing I know is that if we don't stop it, we're going to have a whole shitload of little furry throwpillows lying around the house.