h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Oh, the problems of pseudo-parenthood.

These nights, I wake up oftener. And when I do, it's usually because a tiny, sandpaper-like tongue is licking my nose.

TJ the kitty has discovered that the bed has a handy staircase. That's to help the five-pound dog, who can't jump like the cats. TJ has discovered the secret to sharing a bed with Lola: *don't wake her up*. As long as you don't disturb her zzzz's, she doesn't care what else you do. Like play pattacake with my face.

For reasons I cannot fathom, TJ has decided that I'm the one to cuddle with at midnight. Probably because I don't growl. Okay, TJ, but I'm living for the day you learn how to retract those claws. Till then, I need to think up a snappy comeback for 'Why do you have all those little scratches on your face?'

That's cats for you

But cats aside I once more marvelled at the English language and thought "Sleeping editors don't lie"

That's the best laugh for today, thanks!

I'm a tad stricter with the fur lodger in this house, when I go to bed I shut the bedroom door behind me. Goldie gets the run of the rest of my bungalow. During the day when I'm out and about, she sleeps on the cat quilt which I throw onto my bed after I've made it - and I've found her in the exact same position I left her in 8 hours before!

Result - both of us get a good night's sleep - and no facial marks

Very sensible! We always let them run all over us. The Post Office looks like a pet jungle gym...

At a convention, Mark Oshiro amused us by reading some terribly bad Garfield fanfic. It was truly horrifyingly bad. In it, the manly Garfield crashed a wedding, chucked out William, and made off with Kate. They then repaired to a hotel room, wherein Kate was delighted with the attentions bestowed upon her.

At this point the reading was interrupted by a plaintive voice from the back of the room: "But cats' tongues are really rough!"

TRiG.

How did they know?

I think it's easy enough to extrapolate from having a lick your arm to more sensitive regions

I am appalled at the turn this journal is taking....

Okay, not really.

...reminds me of the morning after turkey day feasts, when the after dinner remains of the turkey are exposed to the cats the evening before, the cats after working the plate over with their raspy tongues leaving nothing but a heap of polished white bones without a shred of flesh remaining on them...

Another public service performed by your feline companions.