When my cat first took up residence in my apartment, he insisted on sleeping up at the head of the bed with me. Problem was I always slept on my side, with at least one elbow sticking out to the front of me and the cat also usually wanted to plant himself in front of me, pressing right against my elbow. The cat had no problem with that, but I sure did. I liked a little personal space. i gradually made more and more room for him, thinking I could find some kind of balance between us.
Then, the Day of Revelation came. It came one day when I was standing at the foot of my bed. And I looked at my bed and saw the two pillows stacked on top of each other and pushed into one corner. I saw how oppressed I was! The first thing I said to myself was, "THAT'S MY DAMN BED!" La Revolucion had begun! After that, I made a point of letting the cat know who was boss! i always got into bed without warning, driving him out before he got buried. Why?
Because, "THAT'S MY DAMN BED!"