Watanuki has been more snuggly than usual lately. Where his usual pattern tends to be to flop on the bed next to one of us (usually Maggie) and demand cuddles, of late he’s been draping himself across our hips or stomachs.
Which is kind of cute, really.
But then there’s that cuddle-demanding thing. He has a very…direct…way of requesting attention.
A quick swat with the paw–claws extended, of course–followed by a soulful gaze…
In fairness to Mr. Knuckles, I should note that some of those holes in my hand are the result of cold weather, frequent handwashing, and even more frequent immersions in various sanitizing fluids. But the longer, more painful ones? Those are all his doing.
The other downside of his cuddliness? Much as it pains me to reveal one of his secret vices, honesty compels me to state that ‘Nuki is a drooler.
Not a demure little drip of happiness.
Rivers of drool. A downpouring from his lip that could put Victoria Falls to shame.
Fortunately, Maggie has found a solution.
Watanuckles is not amused, but he tolerates the bibs in the interest of attention.
Blergh. Our Mystery (big, fat, yellow) has a fetish for heads and if you lie down in bed, he will knead. Your. Scalp. At least he doesn’t drool, but he has this thing of thrusting his muzzle into your ear and licking, or at least making the most of his cold little nose.
I am one big dry-skin scab at this point. They don’t have to scratch me, I take care of that in-house.
Both ‘Nuki and Rhubarb will occasionally plop down on Maggie’s pillow and curl around the top of her head–Cat Hat! And several of the crew have been known to groom her hair, but nobody does it on a regular basis (other than Maggie herself, of course).
At least they confine the “shove the nose halfway up somebody’s rear end” thing to the feline residents of the household.