I don't have the answers yet, but I have learned enough to be dangerous, and ask better questions..

(in my best Southern accent, y'all)

Long ago, when I lived in the South, my redneck soon-to-be-ex-husband explained to me about a three dog night. This was one of many Southern concepts I just didn't get, along with "acting ugly" and why it seemed possums were born dead on the side of the road. He said that when the nights get longer, and colder, everyone in the house snuggles up in the bed to keep warm. Now, people in the South in those days would let their dogs sleep on the bed with them, and I suppose if the dog were a particularly large dog, and it splayed some of its legs across you, well I reckon that could keep you a little warmer than just the covers, and might not be too bad if you didn't mind the dog's snoring and the noxious odors emitting from both ends on occaision. A really cold night might require all three of your dogs on the bed, assuming you had three. In the Deep South Redneck Territories (currently on the lower right in the Red States Zone), three dogs in one family is fairly common. So a really cold night became the three dog night.

Not to be confused with the band of the same name. I don't know what they were thinking about when they picked that name. Hell, they might have been from Newew Yooowark Ceety for all I know. Could have just been one of those hippie drug tripping things.

We had a dog during my brief marriage and forray into the Redneck Zone. The dog was a she, and her name was Bocephus. Don't ask me why my ex picked that particular name. I do know it had something to do with Hank Williams Jr., and I didn't question it much past that point.

Just rest secure in the knowledge that despite her being a female, she was indeed every inch a Bocephus.

He never let the 'Cephus sleep on the bed with us, much as I would have enjoyed that from time to time.

Years later, I have moved to the west coast, and of course, I have no dog named Bocephus and no redneck husband.

But I do have two cats - Momma Kitty Chuck, and Prickles. I know those are odd names, and someday, I'll blog perhaps about why we have cats with odd names, instead of Fluffy, or Spot.

At any rate, it was cold in here last night - very cold, since we left the heat off. And I have a down comforter, so it's not like we froze or anything. But I awoke in the middle of the night after having dreams of being....well let's just say, hemmed in. And I realized that in these wee hours, the temp had dropped low enough that my daughter had wedged her little body tightly up against mine to gain as much snuggle heat as possible in the situation.

For the record, you cannot pry my daughter from a warm snuggly bed sans crowbar and construction crew.

On my back side, Mama Kitty Chuck had hefted her considerable girth up against my back and was snoring loudly, though thankfully not emitting any noxious fumes as would her canine cousins. So I had a one cat night certainly going on here. But then I kept feeling this....pricking feeling on my hip. Further inspection revealed that Prickles the kitten (pricks for short - don't ask) was sitting on top of my hip fiercely attacking my jammy buttons through the covers.

It's nice to know I would have been saved from those sinister jammy buttons, thanks to my beloved kitten. But the experience of being pinched repeatedly by little teeth through a down comforter is not exactly ideal for sleeping.

But in the dead of night, there were we, four of us, two human, two feline, snuggled in my bed under a starry sky.

And so I had not one, but a two cat night.

Hope your night was restful.