The bedroom door is ajar allowing the glow of the morning sun to spill out into our darkened room. Weary but serene, I blink at the amber rays. We are not alone in bed.
At some point in the night, the tuxedo cat with a cacophonous cry and a tiny purr cuddles in between our pillows. His tail tickles my husband’s nose as his whiskers tickle mine. He remains there in various positions through the night and into the morning. While an early visit to the bathroom sees the calico join the three of us. Her loud purrs make my chest and hand vibrate with a tempo of their making. It grows in volume, until I’m sound asleep.
An hour before the aforementioned dawn, two giant dogs inch their way into the bed. Avoiding the cats, they slot themselves into the middle. Their paws and heads touching us both. One curls up into our legs, the other threatens to push us out of the bed completely as he sprawls out. Somehow, we sleep in this controlled chaos.
As I contemplate rising, I can’t help but smile. My little family shares this moment of serenity more frequently than not. It’s crowded in the queen-sized bed, with twenty feet, four tails, and six heads, but it’s ours. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.