I am patting myself on the back for the clever way I foiled the efforts of the orange boy who invades our territory on an almost-daily basis. He has been in here twice today, and each time I was occupying the little “igloo” cat bed in which he loves to nap.

I am pretty tricky. I pretend that I am sound asleep when he sticks his nose in the entrance to the “igloo,” but I see him standing there, wishing I would vanish into thin air. Maybe he thinks he can intimidate me with his cold stare. He is WRONG. He has to go sleep somewhere else.

It is nearly Mom’s bedtime, and I am in the “igloo” again, although the orange boy is not here. When Mom wants her bed, I will have no choice but to surrender to her will. Size does have some advantages. At least she will let me sleep with her.

Wait! The orange boy is howling at the door. Mom lets him jump in. He is coming up the bedside cat stairs. Can I frustrate him again?  No, he wants Mom’s lap this time. Now I am simply jealous, not clever.