Loki absolutely loves to lie on top of me when I’m prostrate on the floor or bed or anywhere else.  So yesterday I nestled on the floor next to the patio doors in the living room, a move intended to let me soak up some sunshine while enjoying the company of a few lazy cats who likewise were intent on absorbing sunbeams.  But the moment I got on the floor marked Loki’s incessant demand that he get to sleep on top of me.  It started innocently enough.

He stretched out atop my abdomen and watched the goings on outside—namely some avian activity.  But then he had to determine if I intended to stay put.

Once he’d determine I wasn’t going to kick him to the curb, at least not yet, he settled in for a bit of shuteye.

And there we both stayed for a while.  There’s just something about a cat stretched out on top of you that lends itself to a feeling of safe relaxation.