Every night, after Steve has fallen asleep (he always falls asleep before me, the bugger), Kimba runs into the bedroom and makes his gurgly greeting sound and hops up onto the bed. He plops himself down on my chest and starts purring ferociously. Every night. I don’t know how he knows the moment that I am going to go to sleep, but he always does, and that’s when he comes for his goodnight cuddle.
He also knows the precise moment I wake up and the process repeats. It’s my favourite way to wake up, other than Steve kisses.
I could take or leave the middle of the night cuddles when he shoves his cold wet nose in my face and demands love. Kimba is a force to be reckoned with when he wants love. Just now, Steve was in the kitchen putting new caulking around the counter and Kimba started rubbing up against him, meowing and purring, persisting until finally Steve gave in and snuggled with him on the couch for 10 minutes.
It’s the best kind of tyranny, to be ruled by a cat.