He's Cooked

Last night about 7 the phone rang....a little voice says, "I need a glass of water"......I ask, why can't you get it yourself? "There is a gray furry thing in my lap sleeping soundly." My dilemma....drive 8 miles to then walk 5 steps from the chair to get him a glass of water??? Poor guy. His life is so sad. He's been turned in to a cat couch. He admits it. He loves it. Every single second. Me, too.