Many moons ago, I found a darling dog bed for Smidge. It was a mauve-y pink, tufted velvet round bolster bed with a stuffed headboard. That’s right, it even had a headboard.
Anyone with human children knows what happened next. Remember, I am a fur-mom only currently, and the self-proclaimed cool aunt.
I ripped it out of the mailing packaging and allowed it to fluff up. Then, I jammed a bunch of treats into the bed and plopped Smidge down in the middle of it. And she…
Sat there, blinking at me. I had to point out the treats, which she gingerly snapped up and then, as you likely guessed, took elsewhere to eat.
I probably should have guessed the round bolster bed was not for Smidge. She likes the very first bed she had here, which is an oval-shaped bolster bed, but when I tried to upgrade her to a faux fur round bed, she wasn’t as thrilled. It ended up getting more use by big sister/cousin, Sparkle.
I’d be very interested to see Smidge’s requirements for beds. She likes to sleep on her bean bag the best, which used to resemble a ladybug and probably still smells a little bit like my college dorm room. She’s taken favor to a faux mohair throw pillow on the couch that is four times her size. She occasionally still sleeps in her old bed, or on an old, satin pillow I stashed under the bed. None of these things are quite alike in texture, size or warmth level.
While Smidge gave up on the princess bed pretty much immediately, Cairo snuck in to take a look. After all, the bean bag used to be his bed, as did the underbed satin pillow. Cairo nobly gave Smidge free run of everything he had when she joined the family, from his toys to his beds. Cairo also loves velvet of all kinds, because of course he does.
It didn’t take long for me to find the king of the pot-bellied kitties perfectly curled up in the princess bed that evening. When he isn’t stretched out on my clothes or on the pillow that touches my face or hidden in the cozy papasan chair with its cat-themed pillows and snuggly blanket, he reigns king of the castle in the princess bed.
If I can’t find him, he’s usually here, head buried in a perfect donut, snoring away and eyes jammed shut, delicately covered by the thick, tufted walls of the velvet bed. Occasionally, when I have disturbed his highness, he’ll lean his head in between the stuffed headboard and the bolstered edge, gently gazing from his cozy castle as if remind me that he is watching whatever I’m doing. Uh, thanks, Cairo.
I’m glad I could provide the very essence of luxury to at least one beast with this $30 purchase.
