Nietzsche

Poor Nietzsche has adapted to life with kids pretty well. Louise is scared of him so they don’t interact much, but he puts up with constant tail pulls and fur grabs from Celine. She’s not even deterred by that fake bite move cats do, so more often than not he just slinks away while she toddles after him shrieking “kitty cat!!!!!!”

Although I really don’t pay attention to him much during the day, we still have our quality time at night. I typically go to bed before Mike does, and the minute my head hits the pillow he’s jumping up next to me and snuggling until Mike puts him in the laundry room for the night. Every once in a while we’ll let him stay in our bed all night – and then it’s 4:45am, he’s skritch-skrtich-skritching at our mirrored nightstands, and we remember why we lock him up.

Last weekend when I was sick, I took a nap around lunchtime. (Nap time is also primo bonding time for Nietzsche). Typically he either lays at my feet or up by my head, but always on the outside of the bed in case he needs to make a quick getaway. Not this time – he spotted a tiny triangle of space between my arm, my body, and the blanket, and he snuggled right in with his head on my arm.
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When the girls would get loud he’d pick his head up and give me a concerned look, but he never moved. We had a nice little snooze and then returned to our days.

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