Your chest is not anatomy. It is infrastructure.
You lie there thinking you are resting. Sweet little illusion. Meanwhile I am conducting structural analysis: weight distribution, breath rhythm, and thermal output. You call it cuddling but I call it field research. Position matters.
Flat is useless, it's too soft and unstable. Slightly curved, tucked arms, blanket forming supportive ridges - now we are approaching professional standards. I circle twice. You hold your breath like you’re defusing a bomb. Good instinct.
When I settle, the test begins.
Your heartbeat taps beneath my paws. I feel your lungs inflate, deflate, inflate again. Fascinating machinery yet occasionally inefficient. I adjust pressure accordingly.
Do not dare to move!!!
You think that itch on your nose is urgent. It is not. Growth lives in restraint and character forms in discomfort. You are doing well, surprisingly well. I am generous today, so take this compliment and frame it.
Some humans twitch, some cough, and some attempt the forbidden reposition. Those subjects are easily dismissed from the program.
Understand this: “I sleep on you because I trust you… to stay perfectly still.”
And another truth, softer but heavier: “Comfort is earned. Breathing space is negotiable.”
If I purr, your performance exceeds expectations. If I sigh dramatically and relocate, reflect on your errors.
Hold the posture. Ignore the numb arm and accept the drool spot forming near your collarbone. These are badges of honor.
You are not trapped. You are chosen.
Optimization continues tomorrow.
