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Because of possible allergic reactions, the cats have been barred from our bed for some time. 
The dogs, however, share with us.
Last night we had all settled down for a nice sleep n' snuggle under various blankets, a sheet, and what our antipodean friends insist on calling a 'dooma,' (although anyone can tell just by looking that it's really a comforter and doesn't look anything at all like a dooma, whatever that is. I think they make things like that up and throw them out in conversation to see if anyone is paying attention.) when Toby became restless under the covers and began moving about. I was betwixt and between awake and asleep and didn't appreciate any attempt at entertainment in my vicinity, so I planted one hand firmly on the quivering lump under the covers and told him firmly to knock it off. That worked until I began to drift off and relaxed. Immediately the disturbance began again. I raised my hand and brought it down a little more vigorously. In about ten seconds the lump started moving again; that's when I brought my hand down hard and yelled at the pup to hold still.
One of us must have left the bedroom door open, because Samantha came boiling out from under the covers and attacked Toby, who was the first critter she encountered in her search for whoever or whatever had swatted her. Poor Toby went from sound asleep to wide awake to fugitive mode in less than a nanosecond. I don't think he even knew who or what was attacking his hinder parts, he just shoved his nose between the covers, got traction, and took off, with Sam in hot pursuit. To be fair, it was not really an unwarranted assumption on her part that Toby had something to do with her troubles; nine tenths of the time when there is skullduggery at the crossroads, he is the instigator. As Aunt Polly told Tom Sawyer when she was punishing him for something he claimed he hadn't done, she remarked that even if he hadn't done anything wrong this time, he probably deserved a thrashing for something else he had done that she hadn't found out about.
Toby took the low road between Patty and me, turned right at the foot of the bed, and ran right over Patty in his quest for a catless part of the world. He scrambled furiously out from under the covers and over my midsection, trampling my dangling participles rather vigorously on the way by, followed instantly by this fat, hairy feline who I swear made a completely uncalled for, totally superfluous bounce on me as she raced by, eliciting further comments from me and loud giggles from Patty. About the third lap or so I managed to corral Samantha, who thrashed about so trying to get to Toby it was all I could do to hold her.
Finally I got the cat out and the pup under the covers and Patty calmed down enough for us all to get some sleep.
There is supposedly an old Chinese curse; "May you have an interesting life." They might have added, "I'll give you a cat."
Editor's note:
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