"No cat is sleeping with me!"

No, I am not the Bearded Lady. I took Boo’s picture with my new webcam on the day after Christmas 2007.

I could not have my cat with me in the months before Hubby and I got married. My parents kept Midnight. When we returned from our honeymoon, we brought Midnight home.

Hubby said that he did not want to sleep with a cat. He thought he was allergic to kitties and didn’t want one in bed with him. I said nothing. Midnight had slept with me ever since the day I got her as a tiny kitten. She wouldn’t agree with Hubby’s idea of the way things ought to be. And I knew very well that she was not going to be kept away from her mistress without stating her opinion.

When we crawled into bed the night we returned from our honeymoon, Hubby shut the bedroom door in Midnight’s face. She was not amused. She started the most pathetic, piercing howl I’d ever heard her emit. And it went on and on and on. I buried my face in my pillow and bit it to keep from laughing.

Hubby mumbled and grumbled about the awful wailing that came from the other side of our bedroom door. Finally, after about 20 minutes of this ghastly noise, he jumped out of bed and said, “That’s it! She can sleep with us; I can’t stand this noise for one more second!”

He threw open the door.

Midnight immediately ceased her horrendous caterwauling and strutted into the bedroom. Her body was stiff as if she were in a full-dress parade. Her tail was straight up in the air and every step was precise and deliberate. ”I showed you!” She jumped onto my side of the bed and made her bed in my pillow. She looked at Hubby with what can only be described as a triumphant glare, as if to say, “I don’t know who you are or what you’re doing in my bed, but you WILL NOT separate me from my mistress!”

Sadly, we lost our Midnight 10 years ago and Boo came to us.

Hubby again announced that we would have a catless bed. Boo had never slept with me, so he thought he could keep out the new kitty.

Boo also had a different opinion. He sat outside the door making a horrible racket. This time, Hubby didn’t last 20 minutes. After about five minutes, he sighed and opened the door. Boo didn’t act as if he were on parade; he just jumped into bed and curled up between us. He looked positively smug. “I knew no human soft-hearted enough to adopt a stray kitty could resist my caterwauling!”

Does the howling cat always get the bed?