The Bed Wars

Everyday when I got ready to make the bed, Brewsky would be in it. I would pick him up, set him on the floor, and proceed with my work. He resented this and would jump back into bed before I could even pull the covers off. I would put him on the floor again, and he would jump back into bed again. I’m a fast bed-maker, but some days, he would jump back into bed as many as eight times. I didn’t know what to do. For six months, I was tortured. For six months, I lay awake worrying. Finally, I realized that I only had two choices: quit making the bed or kill the cat. These choices were so grim that I decided to devote six more months to thinking about the problem. 

One day as I watched him gobble down his supper (he eats like a dog), I thought that maybe I could use food to bribe him to get out of bed, so I tried it. It worked, splendidly. I would throw a few kibbles down the hallway, and off he would go. Sometimes, I would either be too hurried or simply not in the mood to do this, and so it was that I gradually went back to setting him on the floor. To my surprise, he no longer became angry. Most days, he’s even downright patient, and will observe me stoically until I pull the spread over the pillows, which is his cue that he can jump back in and not be taken out again. Ever now and I then, I will put him back into the bed myself, pet him a little, and wish him happy dreams. He seems to appreciate this. He’s hardly an unreasonable cat, and I’m happy that I was clever enough to think of an alternative to murder.