[Oh, it's definitely weird, but Diggers' sense of personal space is unfortunately incredibly flexible, so here they are. Credit him this, he does ease off when his bedmate leans the other way. He's not some kind of human leech, at least.

Plus he would love to see things. He sits up with only some sleepy wobbling, stretching. Fish flakes...??]

No? Nothing? We have been kidnapped and robbed, my friend! This is vandalism of the artist, and at such an unpleasant hour of the morning— Oh, what is that?

[The gift basket, which mostly looks like a colorful blob to him, sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed. He scoots over to haul it up, dropping it down between the two of them.]

Come come, let's see what we have here.