Have you ever tried to meditate with a 17 lb. cat on your stomach? It isn't an easy task.
Earlier today I lay down on the living-room floor to do some quick meditation--all part of my grand scheme to relax, decompress, and get rid of stress hives. About a minute later, my cat Roxie walked in and decided that my abdomen looked like a good place to sit and purr. Now, because Roxie is large--in both directions--this meant that her head was on my upper thigh and her butt was nearly on my chest, with a back foot pressing into my diaphragm. Nice, kitty. It's just a good thing we trimmed her claws last night, or that kneading into my bare leg would have been really painful.
Whenever we're out of town or extra busy like we have been the past few weeks, Roxie gets needy. She doesn't hold a grudge or get cranky, but she gets extra meowy and wants to be near you or on you all the time, even if the weather is nonconducive to that sort of behavior. In other words, she'll sit on your lap, raise your core body temperature to about 500 degrees, and then leave.
Fortunately for me, this morning's involuntary ab crushing only lasted about ten minutes. Much longer than that and I would have had to do something about it.