A funny cat story for a change.

 When we bought the house in 2004 Ron was in and out of his wheelchair.  He had partial paralysis of his right side.  He could get around the house OK, usually, "walking".  He would lean on things in the house like the couch or the wall as needed.  Sometimes he used a walker but in this story he was walking around the house and then using the wheelchair when we left the house.  

Side note: it's a small house.  

I had a couch from IKEA, a "Lillberg" loveseat.  Ron liked it as it had cushions on a sturdy wood frame.  He could grasp the frame and use it to help himself along.  

The way the house is set up you can really only have certain configurations.  The bed can only go on the north wall in the master, etc.  This couch could only run East-West parallel to the hall.  

Since Ron was blind he always asked me to "keep pathways clear".  I was always mindful of floor clutter so he wouldn't trip.  He would trip on his own sometimes, go down like a tree, and then haul himself up.  He never wanted my assistance on that, drunk or sober.  

The couch was convenient for that, I could fit my shoes under the couch.  I generally only have a few pairs of working sneakers and then a pair or two of dress shoes.  I'm just not a woman into shoes.  But I always stowed them under the couch when I got home every day.  I prefer bare feet.  

Ron shouted at me one morning about "my shoes".  They were in the hall, not under the couch.  This was not the first time, he said, and he was *fed up*.  He had mobility issues and needed that walkway clear.  I vehemently denied doing that and we went back and forth for a while.  We were both convinced we were right.  

At the time, I had a large black cat named Bubba.  

We had this argument off and on for months.  One day when I woke up Ron came in the bedroom and apologized to me.  I couldn't believe it, he never apologized.  

"I'm sorry, Heather" he started.  Then he began laughing "Bubba is moving your shoes at night."  

What?  

"Last night I was going down the hall and I found your shoe again.  It was moving around.  Bubba had pulled it out and was rolling around on it!  He's been moving your shoes!  We were both right!"  

Bubba continued to do this, off and on, for the next 9 years or so until he passed.  He just loved my shoes.  

Now one of my cats is doing it.  I don't know which.  It doesn't matter.  They want to roll around in something that smells like me and I think that's sweet.  

I thought you might enjoy that after the last story.