When I rolled over, she stood up and 'rolled me like a log". Then she snarled at me and batted me with her paw for disturbing her. Then she settled down again in as close to the same spot as she could manage.
It was not one of my favorite characteristics of my sweet sook.
Once Minerva died, Grace, who had seldom spent the night in the bedroom at all, decided that my hip was now "her place".
Morning after morning, I wake up with a weight on my hip and wake up from one strange dream or another to find the cat asleep on my hip or my lower back.
Grace isn't as heavy as Minerva was and she's not as insistent. If I start to roll over, she gets off, waits for me to settle down and then chooses her spot again. She doesn't grumble at me for disturbing her and she chooses a place based on where there's enough room for both of us to be comfortable. In many ways she's a lot easier to live with than her "sister" was.
I do wonder, though, what it is that has my hip being "the place to be at night" for the cats in my world.
Maybe I'm just lucky.
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