in my own little bed, i can be whatever i want to be.
circa cinderella...recycled jerry.
jerry has always slept on the far left side of my bed, tucked somewhere safely behind my neck, my knees or my toes. that way no one ever got bit in the middle of the night, except for me.
getting bit in the dark of the night is my job, not the little frail bed buddies.
anyway, a couple of weeks ago after that nasty seizure...jerry started falling off the bed. the far left was no longer safe for him. now he sleeps somewhere in the middle of the bed, away from the edge and this is upsetting to both him and me.
that seizure took a lot out of him...he has lost much of his intentional evilness...now he just looks confused.
i think jerry is 18..maybe even nineteen now...he is getting pretty old. i woke up at 2 am last night and saw him sitting up and looking bewildered and i felt sad for both of us. the little freaking dickhead i loved so much is getting too lost in his head to be pissed off at the whole world.
i reached out slowly and gently and touched my fingers to his tiny foot. he bent down to smell my fingers, gave a sigh as he placed both feet on my hand and laid down with his nose tucked in between my finger and thumb and went back to sleep again.
jerry may get lost in the night but he knows when he has found my scent and touch once again that he is safe at home.