Marta's sister and niece and nephew slept in the living room. So I had to closet the cats with me lest they prowl and fight all night and keep everyone awake. I wasn't expecting to sleep at all, but the instant I laid myself down, I had two passed out cats with me: Oscar curled up like a gentleman next to my face (as opposed to ON my face... a typical Bruno move) and Bruno, twisted into a pretzel in the cubbyhole made by my bent knees.
Of course, they were yowling and leaping and scrapping at 4:30, but I got more sleep than expected. And then, after breakfast at 5 (when I'd given up on sleeping any longer into the morning), Oscar crashed next to my legs and Bruno kind of collapsed into a disheveled cat pile on top of my back. Must be something in the water.
I'm pretty proud of both of them. They haven't destroyed the apartment yet and Oscar even let himself be manhandled for hours by a four-year-old girl who just wanted to hug him and squeeeeeeeze him forever.
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