My husband and I have three cats. Because I am home during the day, our cats tend to gravitate towards me. At night, they want to sleep in the room with me which is fine. I don't mind. Two of them sleep through the night. The third cat, our only boy, has a completely different schedule than the rest of us. He is up when we are down and down when we are awake. His behavior in general can be very challenging and I don't always understand that he can't help himself. He isn't a human being and his restraint system is different than ours!
All three of the cats are a mix of good and bad. I love that they want to snuggle at night and follow me around from room to room, only asking that I settle down and keep them company. They trust me to treat them well. It's not great that they scratch the furniture and trail cat litter all over the house and don't understand that every trip to the kitchen does not signify a meal. Cassie is atypical in that she doesn't want to be picked up. Maddie is fearful still and I have to approach her slowly. Toby has three viruses that require medication and may shorten his life. I find it hard sometimes, especially when the cats are naughty, to see what is right in front of me all of the time: despite the negatives, these cats are a gift-their lives a miracle-and I am the happy recipient of that gift in many, many ways. Being their caregiver offers up a metaphor for me about dealing with life in general. Sometimes the best gifts are not the obvious ones.
Libby