I had laid them on the bed in the process of dressing; she sat on them, because she is a cat. I arrived at the portion of my toilet whereupon the pants were required; she was still sitting on them. I picked up a leg (of the pants) and tugged gently - usually any little disturbance will prompt her to move, even if it is positive feedback like petting. She squawked at me in her creaky meow and stayed put. I petted her a few times, then tugged at the cuff again. She dug in and mewed a little more sharply.
I said "Cat, I need my pants. First of all, they're mine, but second I have to go to work." She meowed and made I'm settled here for the duration movements. I said "Xiombarg, come on." She squeaked. I petted her, she squeaked. I said "Ok, enough of this," and picked up a leg (of the cat), expecting her to move once her personal space was so invaded. She hissed. I let go, sighed, picked her up properly - much complaint - removed the pants from underneath her, put her back down. She swatted me and grabbed the back of my wrist in her teeth in that mother teaching kitten "NO" move, spat out my wrist, and jumped off the bed to go swat one of her mouse-toys.
It's not like we don't have this argument regularly - even if there is more than one article of clothing on the bed, she's a wizard at figuring out which one I intend to wear. She's not usually so recalcitrant, though. I think it may be due to me having a restless night last night, which of course is inconvenient for her, since I'm thrashing around in her bed making it impossible for her to sleep, or meditate, or talk on my cell phone - whatever she does when she does it. Cats.
