Lynette buys me this deep, plush bed at the beginning of winter.
‘It’s to keep you warm, dear Sasha,’ she says.
I didn’t ask for anything, as I am happy as I am. I just stare at her as she unwraps the huge parcel delivered by the online pet store and remain silent.
‘Want to try it, Sasha,’ she says, beaming at me as she rustles the plastic wrapping. ‘You will love this. So comfy and cosy. It will keep you really, really warm.’
Even my ears are feeling nervous. They twitch with anticipation and my tail switches involuntarily. Overheating is dangerous, doesn’t she know that? But I sniff at the plush fabric of the intrusive object. As she touches the new bed, it wobbles from side to side. Very unstable and quite unsuitable. I head off down the hallway.
Much, much later
‘You haven’t used this cosy all winter, dear Sasha. I keep putting it in one room and another, but nothing seems to please you. Why don’t you try it? If you get inside, you will love it!’
She grabs me with her ruthless strength (but I would struggle if I didn’t feel sorry for her) and plunges me inside the depths of the giant plush cosy. My trained athlete’s legs gather tension and leap me out with a gigantic bound.
Now all the toys are in the cosy. At least she is having some fun with them.
In a minute I will retreat into the bedroom to recline on my heated bed. This situation is undignified for my human, who is now crawling on the floor pleading with me.
