All was good until 4:00 when the cats - all three - went batshit crazy. Annabelle came down from her aerie in the bookcase and insisted on sleeping next to out on top of the comforter, while Stella pinned me down by lying on the other side. Thatch decided it was time to rais ther treat box for some food, so I lay pinned to ,my bed and listening to Thatch dragged packages of kitty treats from the treat box in search of his wild salmon bits. Then Stella, who makes this restless sleeper look like a corpse, reacted to every noise in the apartment by jumping up and dashing off to investigate the source before jumping back onto m,y bed and lying down until the next sound prompted another investigation. Then Thatch went to the window and talked to God knows who in his little plaintive voice, so Annabelle had to check that out.
It was hell.
