My number one sleep aid is also my number one sleep hindrance: cats.
The twins are the only cats guaranteed to be in the bed, each one under the blankets stretched along either side of me. Smudge generally prefers the left, and Toast generally prefers the right, but they aren’t particularly picky.
They’re both mildly annoying because they require me to wake up enough to lift the blanket for them to crawl underneath. But once they’re asleep in their spot, they’re usually there for the night.
Pickles sleeps with me most nights, at least for awhile, but he’s so small and so unobtrusive as a sleeping companion that I don’t usually notice he’s there unless I pat the bed near his spot (curled on top of the blankets near my right hip) to find him.
And then there is this one.
Panda is going through a phase of sleeping with me, which I dislike. He’s extremely heavy and never takes the hint that he needs to move when I try to shift position. He has two places he sleeps: under the blankets pinning down my left arm, his face peeking out from the covers an inch or two from my face, or stretched across my hips, where he slowly slides between my legs until I am in the shape of outstretched snow angel to accommodate his girth.
This is how I woke up at two a.m., deeply uncomfortable and flailing from side to side in an attempt to dislodge him. Of course he didn’t get it. I had to wake up enough to sit up, scoop him up, and move him to one side. And then I couldn’t go back to sleep.
I lay there trying to fall back asleep for an hour, until my number one sleep aid appeared.
I admit that most people would consider Chipotle to be a terrible bed cat. He will only lay in two spots (curled under my left arm or on my chest, neither of which is particularly comfortable). He must be under the blankets, and he will ram me repeatedly with his head to wake me enough to lift them. He is a nervous cat and bolts if I shift or if he hears a noise or if another cat gets too close. He digs his claws into my skin when he’s happy, and he digs his claws into my skin when he’s scared–and he’s always either happy or scared or some mix of both, so there is a lot of claw.
But there is something about Chipotle that puts me right to sleep. I can be wide awake when he appears, and within a minute or two of him settling on my chest, I’m out. He only sleeps with me maybe once a week, but he does have impeccable timing, showing up just as I’m about to give up and start my day at some ridiculous hour like three a.m.
Whenever he appears, I always worry for a moment that I’ve deluded myself about his soporific effect and that I still won’t be able to go back to sleep. But he is sleep magic every single time. He’s my favorite cat for many reasons–but it doesn’t hurt that he also my number one sleep aid.
the dirigible plum 
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