So. What were YOU doing at four o’clock this morning? Hiding from your cat? What a coincidence!
Yesterday was exhausting. I spent the day in meetings in Montreal, which is highly unusual for me, and didn’t get back home till around 7:30.
I could tell you about the gut-wrenching stress I experienced as a result of the #14 sailing past me in the morning because it was full, and worrying myself sick that I was going to miss my train as a result, but I’ll just gloss over that part. I’ll leave out the train meeting and the Montreal meeting and the train meeting on the way home. I won’t even mention the taxi ride home with the driver who was talking on the phone while zipping in and out of traffic at 125kph on a strangely crowded Queensway.
I’ll just jump right to getting home at 7:30 and being reunited with my cat who was hungry.
I hate to tell you this, but my cat is not quite as charming as he was in the early days. I think he’s starting to take me for granted. He gets a little bit cranky and demanding at times. Sometimes he even nags me to do his bidding. You know how cats can get that petulant tone? Sometimes Duncan has it. And you know how they can combine the petulant tone with efforts to trip you on the stairs? He’s done that a couple of times too.
Oh don’t get me wrong, he’s still a big ol’ puddin’ head when he wants to be. Bedtime is blissful. That’s when he’s happiest because he doesn’t have to share me with you guys or knitting or anything else. He gets my undivided attention. I love how he sleeps under the covers with his head on my pillow, purring up a storm, kneading me gently with his claws. And I’ve found I sleep much better with a cat than without. He has been very good for my insomnia, even though he tends to wake me up at dawn.
So anyway, back to last night, 7:30, exhausted, reunited with Duncan. First I fed him, then I checked email and so on. By 8:15 I couldn’t stay awake another minute, so Duncan and I headed off to bed. We settled into our usual bedtime routine and fell fast asleep.
At 4:00 I woke up to a tongue in my eye. I struggled against it. But the tongue was determined. I threw my arm across my face to protect my eyes. The tongue found my ear. I pushed him away. He came back. He placed his paws firmly on my chest, to prevent me from squirming away, and started aggressively washing my face. I heaved his 22 pounds of heft off of me, flipped over on my stomach, and buried my face in my arms. He stood on my back and started biting the back of my head, like he was trying to pull burrs out of my hair. Again I heaved him off of me, and this time I grabbed the blankets and pulled them over my head, sealing all the edges underneath me. He checked all the perimeters, looking for a way in, poking his paws at me, making strange noises, acting all weird.
Anyway. I bought Duncan a toy today at lunch time. It’s a squeaky catnip mouse. I’ve been trying to teach him how to play for the past week. I don’t think his last people played with him much, because he seems kind of stunned about the concept of playing. However, he did play with the mouse for about three minutes tonight, so that’s progress.
This is hilarious zoom. I’m have to get Clint Eastwood one of those catnip mice. He doesn’t know how to play either.
Do you have a door on your bedroom? Just wondering….
Welcome to the world of cats Zoom. They dominate, they control, they fret, they worry, they just takeover! I love these stories at this hour of the night between Senators hockey periods.
Please keep them coming.
p.s. I think he and my cat were in the same school together!
Ahh…that’s cats for ya. My ex-roomie’s cat used to meow continuously like an irritating feline alarm clock at my door when I’d gotten home from work and was in the process of going to sleep. They can be loveable attention-whores at times…
Word is that there may be something new coming in time for Valentine’s Day…
Pablo and Zorro are still not getting along
the growling and hissing is becoming monotonous.
cats. can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em
Hilarious scene!
I´m a lucky man, my dog (cookie) sleep all the day and the night…
Hugs from Rio, with 38º, just begin teh summer……
Har har. I’m trying not to laugh too loud since I have no privacy in cubicle world. So, what you’re saying is that sleeping with Duncan is like having an Italian husband?
Sorry, that was a broad and grossly unfair generalization. No offense intended to all non-Duncanlike Italian and/or non-Italian husbands and/or boyfriends
Robin, I do have a door, but I like sleeping with Duncan. I’m not crazy about his grooming impulses at dawn, but otherwise we sleep very well together. As for a toy for Clint Eastwood, absolutely. I used to think cat toys were silly indulgences, since cats will play with anything, but I’m starting to believe that play-challenged cats like Duncan and Clint Eastwood might need actual toys.
Nursemyra: I knew about Pablo, but who is Zorro? Has your ex decided to let you keep Pablo?
Elmaks, I’m intrigued. I will definitely be watching for the VD installation. (By the way, I visited two swap boxes yesterday: there was a tampon in the Glebe one, and the Mayor Larry one was overflowing with stuff.)
Kat, does your cat sleep with you? How’s that working out?
Mauricio – hi to you and Cookie from Canada! I want your weather.
XUP – that’s okay, I’m sure the broad generalization came from personal experience with one or more Italian husbands. Feel free to divulge the gory details here…
Zoom, my cat only sleeps with me when he wants but he expects me to turn on my back so he can lay long down on me. When I don’t he takes a fit and jumps over me to the other side, down to the floor, comes around and does it again. Last night I counted 6 jumpovers (believe me even a 7-lb cat can give the bed a good shake) before I finally relented. He is not a mattress cat but a body cat.
I loved this post. Life with an eighty pound dog is looking pretty good right now. She is still fast asleep at 4 when my insomnia makes me leave my bed for the day. I have to make my way cautiously so that I don’t step on her prone body stretched out beside my bed.
Not on topic (but thanks for reminding me why I don’t have cats!), here is where Urban Pedestrian went:
http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753840302040062406
I saw a comment on http://alsoatalker.blogspot.com/2008/01/running-clinic-1.html
and recognized the boots.
She says at her profile:
“I used to be the Urban Pedestrian, but then I discovered blogging was taking over my life, so now I’m just the Ex-Urban Pedestrian (XUP) and as such can visit my favorite blogs once in a while at my leisure. I’m keeping the boots, too.”
oops. Zorro belongs to my son’s boyfriend so we already had a cat in the house when Pablo arrived for the holiday.
no word yet on whether he’s a permanent guest but I have all my fingers and toes crossed.
(it’s quite hard to type and walk like this)
Kat, it’s funny how insistent cats can be when they’re sure they’re right. You can’t win an argument with a cat.
Oma – she doesn’t follow you when you get up? I thought that was in the job description for dogs!
Julia, good sleuthing! Good for her for keeping the boots, and I hope she’ll start a new blog when she has more time. (She left a couple of comments on this post, just a little above yours, by the way.)
Nursemyra, Pablo must be Quite the Cat to be in such demand. I hope you get to keep him.