Kona's Discovery

Kona discovered the bed, and it's all my fault.

Yesterday, after rolling across sidewalks, putting on band-aids, and writing a blog about the whole thing, I sat in bed to read. Kona was laying underneath the bed, and I worried that he may be slyly chewing on one of my dress shoes, or a dress sock, since he has recently started this inconvenient habit. I looked under the bed and found Kona laying quietly, innocent as a lamb.

Then the cats came.

Kona really likes the cats, and thinks that jumping on them and trying to knip them is awfully entertaining. The cats, try as they may, attempt to convince him otherwise by repeatly swatting at his muzzle, their claws often becoming stuck to Kona's face. Kona apparently doesn't seem to mind, or notice, one of the two.

I watched the drama unfold as Chloe, the gray one, sits at the foot of the bed, fending off Kona's playful advances as his nose pokes above the foot board. I'm trying my best to read, but Kona's thirst for attention is too much to ignore. Not wanting him to loose an eye, I get down from the bed and he lays down beside me. After about ten minutes, I assume it's OK to climb back under the covers. A minute later, a flash of black clumsily appears on the bed beside me, and after making a few quick circles, Kona curls up to me and looks at me like, "See, isn't this nice?" I should have had him return to the floor, but I REALLY wanted to read, and in all the commotion, I figured it was better for all the parties involved if I did nothing. I could read in peace, the cats wouldn't get pummeled, and Kona's muzzle wouldn't get used as a scratching post.

Hind-sight is 20/20. I should have just put the book down.

Now Kona jumps up on the bed whenever.

And now I have to worry about a paw to the face.