My girl cat has an ongoing love affair with rugs.
No, that’s not right. My girl cat has an ongoing love affair with one particular rug. The runner in the upstairs hallway.
Every day I make sure it’s lying flat and even. And every morning I get up to find it bunched and folded up, a twisted pile on the floor.
I’ve never witnessed how she accomplishes this feat. If she rolls around on it, or pushes it with her paws or just repeatedly runs over it until it’s mounded up. But I have found her asleep on the top of the heap, satisfied and snoring. I guess turning a rug into a nest is hard work.
Whatever she’s doing, it’s rough on the rug. Over the years it’s become worn out, with lots of pulls and small rips.
It’s so ugly that I decided to replace it.
I felt so guilty about it, like I was taking away my girl cat’s favorite teddy bear, that I procrastinated buying a new one until yesterday when I found a runner I liked for cheap.
Last night, I picked up the old rug and spread the new one out in the hallway.
In the middle of the night, I awoke to a strange, mournful meowing noise. Worried that one of the cats was injured or ill, I got up to investigate.
The meows were sounds of passion, not pain. I found my girl cat in the middle of the new rug, rolling around blissfully and gathering the edges to her body with her claws.
I guess I felt guilty for nothing. She’s an equal opportunity rug lover.