Slept in My Own Bed

Slept in My Own Bed




When my dad got really sick over Memorial Day weekend, I started to sleep in the living room—right outside his bedroom. That way if he needed me, I was right there. It was a little adjustment for Thunder, but he got into the routine. When my dad died, I decided to continue to help Maggie with the transition and since we had a hot spell, it was much cooler.



The other night, something happened. I’m not sure what, but all parties looked guilty. I heard Maggie jump up and run quickly. I don’t know if she was guarding me and Thunder got too close, if Thunder pounced at her, or maybe he sniffed her, woke her up and that caused the ruckus. Thunder was nervous the rest of the night, I had trouble sleeping and literally had nightmares of Thunder getting hurt by the dog.



It was time to start sleeping in my own bedroom.



My room is on the top floor—up the metal, circular staircase. The stairs are not safe for any dog to climb—but particularly a clumsy one like Maggie. She falls going up the regular steps. I have it blocked so Thunder can go up, but Maggie cannot.



I brought Thunder’s water dish upstairs, filled his dishes with dry food and made the bed. He was watching everything I did. I filled up Maggie’s Kong toy to help out. It was a nice feeling to bring up my pillows. Next step—I brought up Thunder. As typical, he sniffed around and went back downstairs. This is his routine if he isn’t real tired. I gave him some fresh can food downstairs to fill up his belly and brought him back up. It worked. He curled right up and fell asleep.



I tried listening for the dog to make sure she didn’t get into trouble. I forgot how much louder the crickets were up in my room than downstairs, and I was actually straining me ears. It sounded like she was chewing her nylabone. I read for a while and went to sleep.



Thunder slept with me the whole night, except when he went downstairs to eat every scrap of canned food I left for him. He ate some of the dry upstairs, too. He seemed so happy in the morning—filled with purrs. I then discovered that Maggie got into the only garbage that was available to her—from my bathroom. She ate some toilet paper tubes. Well, I can eliminate that problem. Let’s see what she gets into, tonight.



Maybe this is why Thunder has lost some weight since the ordeal began. He may not be relaxing enough at night to eat his normal amount. He currently looks like a Siamese with long hair. He has always been a thin cat. He still seems healthy, and it isn’t unusual for him to lose weight I the summer heat, but I just don’t like him this thin. Maybe the dog situation at night was more of a stress than having other people in the house during the day?



I sure hope Maggie doesn’t get too destructive, so I can continue to sleep in my bedroom. I think it will be good for both Thunder and me. My mood was much happier this morning, too. Waking up in the living room was just a reminder of things I’d rather forget. I really want to go forward in my life instead of dwelling on the sad times of the last few months.



Please, Maggie, let this work.