How it starts – Photo: L. Weikel

The Art of Cuddling

I thought I had it down. After 41 years of marriage and three sons, I thought I was a master cuddler. A super snuggler. But watching these puppies contort themselves into positions of maximum warmth and comfort is a master class in the art of cuddling.

I’ve had at least one cat in my life all my life. Even before Katen came to me as my  kitten, when I was six, my family had a gray cat named Jack and a calico named Money. I’m pulling that name out of the air. I think that was her name. The memory of the calico feels so long and far away, it almost feels like another lifetime. I’m pretty sure I was pre-verbal when she was around.

Believe it or not, Karl and I even got a kitten on our honeymoon. We adopted him at the Brewster ASPCA, in Brewster, MA, on Cape Cod. Yeah. We were bound and determined, if not destined, to live amongst love.

Wow, come to think of it, we even adopted an orange kitten out of wedlock – while we were still in college at Penn State. He was such a sweet, long drink of water cat. Stretched out (which he loved to do), he was a cat and a half. I’m almost embarrassed to admit it, but we named him Sage. Nothing like our youngest son having the triple luck of being named after a wise one, a healing herb, and a beloved kitty.

Funnily enough, not unlike Tigger (my boy whom I took in when Sage and Sarah couldn’t keep him at their university), my mother took in Sage (the orange beast) when we realized he was playing with PSU housing staff under the door of my dorm room. Oops! Ha ha. She loved that cat so much…

Rootching around to get comfy – Photo: L. Weikel

Back on Point

My point is that I’ve always had my feline familiars schooling me in the art of the cuddle. Then Sheila came along – and taught me that snuggling with a puppy is distinctly different than with a cat. But Spartacus, being in our home from Day One of his life, took the art of cuddling to a whole new level. He had an unerring knack of molding himself so that he fit perfectly into the small of my back. Or when Karl insisted on ‘being there,’ Spart was always willing to ‘come around to the other side’ to be held by me. Three spoons in the drawer, so to speak.

But watching these two puppies from the same litter snuggle is beyond the pale. It’s a level of merging bodies and maximizing skin-time that surpasses anything I ever saw Sheila and Spartacus engage in. Sheila loved Spart every minute of his life. But she was his mother. They were never equals. They cuddled – but never really intertwined  the way these two do. It’s hard to explain.

A Cuddle Progression

So here it is. The first set of progressive photos, showing you how these two moved from a simple side-by-side snooze to – well – I don’t know what you want to call it. I think it speaks for itself, although it is almost like looking at one of those optical illusions that slowly make sense as your brain puts it into some semblance of order. (All of which reinforces my suspicion that I have a lot left to learn!)

That’s the ticket – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-45)