Truce

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I am pinned under the quilt, can't turn over. There is a dog snuggled up to my right side, breathing gently. One cat is curled against my feet, the other is stretched out along my left side. I am warm, rather I am hot, and I can't move. This apparently was not an issue when I was asleep, but I am now awake and starting to sweat. I wonder how my beloved animals come to swarm me in the night. They don't usually do this.

The cats do not like the dog; the dog is wary of both cats.

The cats do not like each other.

The dog is wary of both cats.

At bedtime, Tiger the tabby was roaming the neighborhood, nowhere to be seen, Snowball was camped at the foot of my bed guarding her territory, and Duke was on his doggie rug, resigned to the floor.

Come morning, predator and prey lie together with their human, asleep in truce.

I hate to disturb this small miracle, so I don't.
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