In the wee hours of morning today, I awoke to shift my sleeping position, finding my movement a little restricted. I groggily took inventory of the creatures in my bed, and decided not to move after all.
Arranged in various incarnations of spooning, across the width of our queen-sized bed lay, in order:
Presley, our tortie-point Himalayan cat;
Ella, my pewter-colored rescued farm kitty;
Arlo, snoring quietly;
and Ted, with his arm thrown over the lot of us.
So much love, so little space. Even though I woke up with a stiff shoulder and a sore back, I wouldn't have traded it for the world.