It continues.
I climb on the bed and no one says 'no' or 'down puppy' any more.
I am suspicious.
I have ventured up to the pillows and been shooed back to the end of the bed but now... now there is no cold floor while they read their trash novels. No banishment to the plastic covered fake wood floorboards (I made the mistake of peeing on them once and the flood practically engulfed me. Horrifying. Real wood would be so much classier not to mention more absorbent.)
So, while they drone on about Caitlin Moran's latest article 'why wearing DM Boots past the age of 40 is a sign of intelligence [not a cry for help]'', I lie here... looking cute.
I figure the cuter I look the less likely I will be dumped back on the floor - so I wriggle on my back, flop my paws about like an idiot, tilt my head to the side and gaze at them adoringly... All the while plotting how I can usurp them from their pillowed thrones.