It is comforting Cool Hand Luke still sleep on my bed–usually curled up in the front of the bed in the left hand corner.  Sometimes I reach out and pet him.  He is the only cat (of seven) who will climb on my lap and stay for awhile to be petted.  He is a scrawny black cat who is the only pet left from the three I bought into this marriage.  He does have one odd habit:  he likes to run through open doors.  He must be at least eleven now.  He does not get along too well with the other cats but he is my cat.  Not that you can ever really own a cat.  They own you.