Sunday night, I arrived back from Florida. After not seeing each other for many weeks, the cats and I had a happy reunion. That night, three out of four cats slept on my bed.
The only cat who slept elsewhere was Carbon...
I think it's because I once rolled over on her when she was little. Can't say I blame her. She still looks surprised.
Frankie, who obviously spent his free time at the food bowl and was even bigger, slept at my feet. This made rolling over difficult. Fortunately, I was so tired I didn't move much.
Olive (who is a very literate cat) slept on the side of the bed. A powerful and very loud thunderstorm kept waking me up. I registered two things: that's a lot of rain and Olive hasn't stopped purring all night.
Then there's Dooley.
Dooley and I adore each other. He's a bit weird around other people and had essentially little to no human contact while I was away. I worried about if he'd be totally feral by the time I returned. Instead, he slept right by me, and would sniff my nose on occasion, then roll on his back right next to me.
That's when I heard it. Dooley was purring, but it wasn't the loud raspy purr of Olive. It was deep and quiet. Even with lightning flashes and thunder claps, I could not only hear his deep purr, I could feel it. It was pure bliss.
It's good to be home.