Henry doesn’t tolerate covers. He might curl up in his box, or under the old sewing machine in our living room but he needs his freedom. He sleeps for a few hours on the footend of our bed (my side, of course). He doesn’t spend the whole night there, it’s like he gives this to me as a boon. And while he might drape himself over my arms when I type, he never curls up next to me when I’m sitting on the couch. A very independent cat
Today I found him like this. Our grandson had bedded him like a doll, put the cover right up and tucked him in. Henry just let it happen and even seemed to enjoy it. That’s the difference between being a friend and being staff.