Every week, when I change my sheets, housekeeping appears in the form of a 10 pound fur-ball named Gus.
No sooner do I place the stack of sheets on the stripped bed than Gus arrives on the scene to check my corners.
He takes his work very seriously.
He didn’t see this flat sheet coming.
As I move the flat sheet around to position it correctly, Gus chases the sheet around on the bed. He thoroughly enjoys this game. We could play it for hours on end, but he has other chores to do.
He surfaces and gives the sheets a sniff.
We have confirmation that they are freshly laundered.
“Is that a piece of fur?!”
He finds many invisible fixations as “we” make the bed.
“Ah, this is the life.”
“Oh right, I’m supposed to be helping you make the bed.”
Gus often refuses to move as I secure the flat sheet, so I just make the bed over him. My hope is that this will cause him to move, but he never seems to mind a bit.
I usually have to extract him from underneath the sheet and then he promptly makes himself comfortable right smack in the middle of the bed as I prepare to put the duvet and pillows on the bed.
This is his go-to lounge spot during the day. I go through a ridiculous amount of lint-rollers trying to keep my bed from looking like an animal itself.
He’s very proud of himself.
I sure wish he could iron. My bedding is a wrinkled mess.
“Did you leave a mint on my pillow, Gus?”
Y’all sleep tight,