Meet Banshee. He drools. He kneads and drools.
With Jim, he's a very good bed cat. He just curls up with him, and purrs himself off to sleep.
With me, not so much. I go to bed, and settle down with my down comforter pulled up to my shoulder, and my head snuggled into my two pillows, and my sigh of relaxation.
Then, out of nowhere, this large cat lands on my hip with a huge THUMP. He is not graceful. It feels as if he is dropping from the light fixture, but I know that is an illusion.
Before he has actually landed, the first drop of drool hits the comforter. He kneads his way up to my neck, where he can actually find skin. I pull the comforter up to my ears. His kneading claws sound so loud on the tightly woven cotton. He is purring wetly by this time, and the covers near my head are wet. A drop of drool runs onto my pillow. I turn the pillow over, and the next drop runs down my neck. I push him off, but he comes back.
I feel something cold and wet in my ear. Yep. You guessed it. He has drooled in my ear.
He saves all this love for me.
I feel so special.