It's a good thing I don't have kids. Because the guilt trips I lay on Beverly... let's just say it's a blessing she can't understand me.
About a month ago, Beverly stopped sleeping with me at night. It's so sad... she hangs out on the bed all day long, and then when I climb into it at night to go to sleep, she moves to the sofa in the living room. She likes her space, I guess.
Sometimes when I'm laying there, I start yelling really loud so she can hear, "I just want you to know that you're BREAKING MY HEART." And then I begin to rattle off a list of everything I do for her. All I want to do is cuddle... why can't she give me that?
It's not that she's not affectionate—she is—it just has to be on her terms.
Anywho, as I mentioned, I'm at my mom's house in Illinois right now. Last night when it was time for bed, Beverly decided she was going to sleep in the kitchen by herself. I wasn't going to have it, so I went down there, picked her up and carried her back upstairs. (She was actually in bed for a few minutes before making the trek down there alone in the dark.) I then put her back on the bed and closed the bedroom door so she couldn't escape. I trapped her, essentially, like a psychopath.
When I fell asleep, she was still up on the bed. But when I awoke this morning, she was all cozied up on the floor in the corner of the room by herself.