My brother’s girlfriend and her sister are visiting from the Philippines for a couple weeks, so her sister’s staying in my currently “vacant” room.
However, if you remember the logistics of my family members, my beloved cat believes that my room is actually her room, and that she’s being the nicest living creature on the planet when I come home because she chooses to share it with me. She’s probably not far off from the truth because ever since I rescued her from the homeless shelter, she’s been living in my room more so than I have, because I’m always at school. My long-held suspicion is that she chooses to share it with me because somewhere deep down, she loves me, and because she thinks I’m really comfortable to lie on. I never mind this unless she (1) starts kneading my throat, or (2) decides to use my chest as a launch pad right as I’m about to fall asleep. Ninja’s not the slimmest of kitties, if y’know what I mean. (she’sprettyhefty.)
In any case, they arrived two nights ago and Ninja, being Ninja, was pretty alarmed at the prospect of a stranger taking over her/my room.
N: An intruder that’s not Farrah? No, never!
So she did the only thing she could do. Sprawl across my full-sized bed in an attempt to take up as much space as felinely possible.
When my brother’s girlfriend’s sister (I’d totally give her a name if I knew what it was) tried to convince her to move off the bed, she started batting at her to keep her away. My theory is that Ninja thinks she’s replacing me, that I’m never coming back again, and this she cannot agree with, because I am one of the two people on this planet that she actually loves.
Poor baby. ;_; I wish I could hug her.