The Couch Night

I’ve never been that good at saying “no” to Julie.

(This doesn’t apply to her long-standing dietary restrictions — those will be the subject of another post.) 


She hops up on the kitchen table — I look the other way. 


She hops up on my lap — I let her stay until she’s ready to go. Which, if she falls asleep, could be hours. 


For the last weeks, that sentiment has been turned up to 11. 


Last week, we shared what I already call in my head “The Couch Night.” I write it down here just so I know I’ll remember. Because I know that these days will become a blur, and there will be a time years from now when I do not think of Julie every day. 


On The Couch Night, I was watching a basketball game in the living room well after my usual bedtime. The Dallas Mavericks are in the playoffs, playing on the west coast, and I had to force myself to stay up until one in the morning. The game ends, and I’m about to head upstairs for bed. I see Julie approach, and I know what will happen next. Within seconds, she’s on my lap. 


Now, this would ordinarily be unremarkable behavior. When I’m home, Julie spends a sizable portion of the day on my lap or sitting right next to me. And ordinarily, I would entertain her for a few minutes before going up to bed. She can always sit on my lap tomorrow. 


But now I don’t know how many tomorrows we’ve got. Every time she’s on my lap could be the last time. 


So I let her stay, and pet her, and nuzzle up against her to heat her purr. 


Soon, she’s asleep. 


I lay down on the couch, adjusting my position so as not to bother Julie, and close my eyes. 


At six in the morning, I wake up, and she’s still there. 


Tonight, again, as I am about to head up to bed, she arrives on my lap. She has a knack for this, for doing what I want her to do, but doing it at precisely the wrong time. 


Tonight, she doesn’t stay all night — although I’m sure I would have let her do so. She gets comfortable, then readjusts, and stirs again, and hops off. I hope for more tomorrows, for her to hop back on again. 

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