All the news programs were calling it the Presidents' Day Storm. The snow had been falling steadily for over 24 hours, and it was expected to continue for another 24. Nothing was moving, not even, as the Christmas poem goes, a mouse. Not even my one-eyed mouse, which in this case was probably good because I was sleeping with a cat. The fact that the cat was an inactive, one-eyed cat was just an ironic coincidence.

My girlfriend had abandoned me and her white noise machine and was soundly sleeping in another bedroom. There is something about going to sleep with someone and then waking up alone that whispers "rejection," even if your good sense tells you otherwise. The last time it happened, it was because I was snoring. This time it was, as I found out later, because she couldn't sleep, although she was doing a really good job of sleeping when I found her.

Okay, you say. No big deal. It only happened twice. Well, this was twice in one weekend, and my first weekend of sleeping over at her house. That makes it a serious trend. The really spooky thing about it is that it has happened before – with other women. And each time, the woman had a cat, and I woke up alone with the cat.

What is it about me that causes women with cats to reject sleeping with me while their cats seem to prefer it? Perhaps, as one cat person suggested, I really am chopped liver. My dog won't sleep with me either, so I don't think that's it. My girlfriend eventually dumped me–as they all do. Perhaps I'll get a cat.