Spuddy

Spuddy in Bedroom
Originally uploaded by Anthony's World

It’s almost four in the morning and Cillian has woken crying for the second time this night. I make my way carefully down the stairs to heat a bottle, the ground beneath my feet seeming to pitch and yaw, so tired do I feel.
It’s quiet now upstairs and I find Sharon in Cillian’s room, feeding him. As soon as the bottle is warm enough, she hands him to me and goes back to bed. She needs her rest, as she has returned to work. She turns off the little light on the baby monitor, but leaves the lower landing light on. The diminished glow ghosting through a small internal window above the bedroom door is more than enough for me to see.
Our baby is tired, thankfully, he had a big day at Magda, Francois and Jan’s apartment, playing with the other babies there.
His eyelids slowly lower till I can barely see his pupils, which scan left and right, seeing neither the real world nor the world of baby dreams. His suckling becomes reflexive and I speak to him gently and on a couple of occasions, wind him, hoping to make him slightly more alert so that he will feed well and sleep better.
His left hand, soft and warm, strokes my arm, but even that movement stills.
Outside the bedroom door, Spuddy starts to snore. Our big marmalade tom was mightily put out by the arrival of Cillian. He has come round, though he loves it when Cillian has gone to bed and its just Sharon and I in the living room. He shuttles back and forth between our laps, till he eventually finds the one that is warmest and settles down, basking in the attention.
Often, when Cillian is playing on the rug downstairs, he will share the space with the baby, not too put out by flailing feet or arms.
Shortly after Cillian moved into his cot and his own room just a few weeks ago, Spuddy took to sleeping outside the bedroom door. He won’t enter, at least not when I am there and even ignores the door to our bedroom if it stands ajar, denying himself what was once cat Nirvana. He prefers now to sleep outside the baby’s door.

Cillian is fast asleep and I place him in his cot, tuck him in and kiss him goodnight, wearily heading back to bed, turning off the landing light.

It’s four in the morning and Spuddy is snoring outside the baby’s door.