He Ain’t Heavy

As the evenings cool the cats gravitate together for mutual warmth, with the black one often just plonking himself down in the bed on top of the white one, who just looks up uncomplainingly as if to say ‘he ain’t heavy, he’s my brother’; but at the end of the night it’s a two man job for my wife and me (too soft to disturb them) to pick up the bed and carry them through undisturbed to their sleeping quarters.