Due to both Joel and I being able to rattle windows with our snoring, and my somewhat unusual activity of "swimming" while asleep, Joel and I often sleep in different beds. He tends to be somewhat more nocturnal than I, and so now that we have plenty of rooms to use, we got a futon- lounge and set up another bedroom-cum-family room in one of the bedrooms. During the day it serves well as another place to "hang out" and watch TV, and at night it can be another bedroom. It has several advantages in that when "the boys" are over playing cards to all hours of the evening, I can still watch the "chick flick" on tv without constant heckling. It also provides us both with our own personal space, and allows us both to sleep the night through without disturbing the other person. Now that Joel is no longer sleeping in the same room as me on a regular basis, it is even more important to me to share my bed with Shmoggleberry. (Note that this is not the end of the relationship -- things are otherwise rosy -- we just need our sleep!)
Things were going well for the first week or so. Because Shmoggleberry was in a new house and everything was strange to him except Joel and I, he was more affectionate than usual, well, when he dared to come out from under my bed, that is. He liked to follow me around, and I think he needed that bit of reassurance that "Mummy is here" when he started exploring. He took his naps under my bed (which was the bed at the flat) and used to "hang out" under there when I went to bed. Although not quite on my bed, it was close enough, and I thought it my lead to my cat finally installing himself on my bed during the night.
On the third night of being in the house, I was woken up by snoring. Not being an unusual thing, considering Joel's nasal ability, I didn't fully wake up, and just muttered "shut up", which sometimes shuts down the buzz-snore just long enough for me to doze off again. Perhaps I tossed and turned for a bit, but it didn't seem long before I had woken up again, still with the sound of diesel motor somewhere I the room. This time, I was quite prepared to jab the offender sharply in the ribs. I don't wake up particularly quickly, particularly when the noise or interruption is a fairly routine, but I couldn't work out why Joel wasn't in the bed. Bewildered, I sat up with a start, wondering whether I had dreamed the absence of Joel, or the presence of Snore.
Now fully I awake, I could think more clearly. The sound was clearly snoring, but Joel certainly wasn't I the bed. Still in somewhat of a daze, I looked under the bed. Not only had Shmoggleberry gone to sleep under the bed, he had placed himself right up the top in the corner, the spot right under my pillow, snoring like an elephant with sinus congestion. All curled up, he must have been snorting his own fur to make such a noise. I have now discovered that a quick jab in the ribs not only stops Joel snoring, it stops my cat snoring too, although Joel doesn't have 10 razor sharp blades of death to demonstrate his dissatifaction at finding himself awake. He fights back with "snorer's breath" and I'm not sure which one is worse -- at least Shmoggleberry doesn't expect me to kiss him before he goes back to sleep!