Heidi: Champion Napper of the Eastern Seaboard

If napping were an Olympic sport, Heidi would have a shelf full of gold medals and a sponsorship deal with a premium blanket company. I have documented, over the past several months, no fewer than fourteen distinct napping positions — each deployed with surgical precision depending on the time of day, ambient temperature, and whether I am trying to use that particular cushion.

Her favorite spot is, predictably, wherever I was just sitting. The moment I stand up to get a glass of water, she materializes. It is not coincidence. It is strategy.

Scientists have not yet studied this phenomenon, but I am confident they should. In the meantime, I have simply accepted that the armchair is hers, the sofa corner is hers, and the sunny patch by the window is absolutely, non-negotiably hers. I am permitted to sit on the floor.

Today she slept for approximately eleven hours, woke up to eat, gave me a look that suggested I had somehow disappointed her, and went back to sleep. I have never felt more seen.