Club houses...beware

Last night was rough-especially for our 15 year old cat, Muffin. Muff is usually a pretty easy going guy if you factor in his advanced age and that he has very few teeth. And did I mention he's skinny...OK maybe scrawny is more like it. I bet he has the (body) fat content of a rice cake. Thin though he is, he still has his Egyptian Mau good looks and charcoal polka dots. He was wearing eye liner w-a-y before it was cool and the skin on the bottom of his pads can only be compared to expensive leather--buttery soft and smooth. He's just the best, asthma and all.

Muff waits on the bed every morning until I get up and then the yowling to be fed begins. He likes to get a yowl going and hold one note as... long... as... he... can. Sort of like toddlers who hold their breath--it's all about control--and he can hold one note for cat eternity.
He's been known to try to whisker me awake in the morning to speed things along but knows that's not a real smart idea. Or, he runs back and forth across the upper part of my pillow while my head is still on it, to "encourage" me to get up. Funny guy.

Anyway, due to his scrawniness, he gets cold summer or winter. I have taught him to go under the bed covers to "the club house" to get warm and when he will, he gets toasty and goes right to sleep. For you club house novices, a club house is the tent your knees make when you bend them underneath the sheets and when a fur bearing animal scoots up close to your legs, it rapidly becomes a sauna. Welllllll....that's how we went to sleep but I did put my legs down, over beside him. I don't care if he is 15--I'm not sleeping in a jack knife position all night.

And that's when the trouble started. Our alarm system went off for some unknown reason in the middle of the night, I woke up Bruce, then sat up, Muffin snoozily stretched, and he fell off the bed--into the cold dark. He... didn't... come... back... for... hours... and when he finally did, no club house for him....ohhhhh, no. He was barely speaking to me.
Tonight I think the club house is gonna be a really tough sell. Maybe it's time to make him his own little cat bed, on the bed. Knowing him, he'll hate it.