AS FAR AS THE PETS WENT, Watson was bigger than his feline “brothers” by a factor of roughly four to five times. Nevertheless, his brothers didn’t much care about his obvious dominance in the size contest. Virtually every day, we’d find Watson lying next to his bed with a somewhat mournful look on his wide face. Then, we’d notice one of his little brothers was sprawled across the middle of his bed. Watson appeared to be pleading with us to intervene on his behalf against the interlopers.
Some days, the cats would arrive too late, and Watson would already be in his bed. So one or more of the felines would simply sidle up next to him and get to work on a nap. Again, he’d give us a mournful—even aggrieved— look. He seemed to be saying, “Look, my persons. This is my bed, right? I guess it’s OK that my pals are here, too. I mean, at least I can spread out since I got here first. But as you can see, Albert here is lying against me, and, you know, I don’t want to roll over and squish him!”
But not once did Watson growl, bark, or bully his smaller housemates off of his bed. He’d share his bed even when he was already in it. He’d submit to being displaced from his comfy bed, rather than demand his own way. Even when the look on his face was saying he wasn’t as comfortable as he wanted to be, Watson would soon drop his head down—often right next to his feline buddy—and fall asleep. Sharing was more important to Watson.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish