We have our own personal catwalk in our bedroom. Just for two. His and hers. Seven feet off the ground. And it gets used on a daily basis.
It didn't start out as a catwalk. The designer would probably be insulted to know of its current use.
The catwalk is actually the canopy of our bed. Now I know I'll get lots of mail about this, but I was always taught that if a bed had four tall posts but no frame between the tops of the posts that it was a tester bed. If it had a frame at the top of the posts (with or without linens hanging from the frame) then it was a canopy bed. Our canopy bed has no linens hanging from the frame.
That frame is the catwalk. And it's used by cats. Thing 1 and Thing 2 figured out how to jump onto the frame from the headboard. Not only do they walk on it, they perch on it to watch while we putter around the bedroom. They also stalk each other on it.
Thing 1 has a habit of following Thing 2 closely and swatting at her back legs to trip her and knock her off. He doesn't share well. There are countless scratch marks where Thing 2 has tried to hold on for dear life, her ears back in fear, and her eyes wide, as she's tried to push herself back onto the catwalk.
The worst part of having the catwalk right over our heads is when one or both are sitting on the rail when it's time for the humans to go to bed. First the lights go off, but sleep doesn't follow quickly. We're waiting to the muffled thud of a cat jumping onto the mattress from the frame.
It's that fear that one of them will land on our heads.
For the Record - a fascist's rant
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