Life in my head...

A letter to my cat

Your human mommy really, really loves you, even though sometimes you act as though I'm your personal slave.  I forgive you for all your thoroughly feline moments because when I'm sick, you act like a concerned mother.  Even though I can't stand to be touched when I have a migraine, I actually like it when you bump your nose to the spot that hurts, or "make biscuits" on that part of my scalp.  However, two nights ago when I was sitting on the edge of the tub and vomiting into the toilet, you really took it too far.  I had thrown the phone on the bed because I was talking to Human Daddy on the phone when the nausea hit.  You ran across the bed and hung the phone up.  Well, I should have guessed that that would happen.  If there's a keyboard or keypad anywhere, you must show your dismay by stepping on the keys.

I've always known you enjoy sitting on the toilet lid, especially when I'm taking a bath.  And normally, you are very good to look and make sure that the lid is down before you leap.  When investigating my vomiting, though, you just blindly jumped.  Thank God for all of us that I grabbed you one-handed (the other hand was busy holding back my hair).  I'm sorry you had to spend that undignified moment hanging from the rim of the toilet by two paws.  But trust me, you did NOT want a dunking in the toilet.  Firstly, it was full of vomit.  Secondly, it has the blue tidy bowl thing in it, and you are too young to be considering a blue rinse for your hair.  And last but not least, I was in no condition to bathe your uncooperative self.  Thanks for taking care of me, but please watch where you are jumping! 

Walking the cat

My sweet Callie has been infected with a vicious case of spring fever, forcing her to chew on door frames, attempt to scale walls, and cry piteously while pacing around the windows.  I suppose I can't blame her; cats aren't exactly known for their supreme memories.  If she did have an attention span longer than my last trip to a strobe-containing bar, she might remember that there are stray cats living under our house who delight in kicking her ass.  Poor baby, she just wants to go out and play with the birds, while I want to avoid vet bills.  So, I have let her out for brief periods in the last couple of days, worrying the whole time.  These short recesses have just brought about more kitty schizoid behavior.  I had enough today.  Enough!  So I decided I'd walk the cat.  We have a harness left over from the last big storm (we wanted to have a way to contain Callie if we had to go to 'rents).  Tonight, with much difficulty, we dressed our obese feline in her harness (thank God it's adjustable), and clipped a retractable leash to it.  And we opened the door.  She streaked out and immediately tried to get in the hedge.  We pulled her out of the hedge, and she just crouched there, on the ground, refusing to move.  Tim picked her up, thinking maybe if she got on the sidewalk she'd quit doing her best Guillaume Barre Syndrome impression.  Nope.  We put her down and she refused to budge.  Not even the sight of the neighbor's kitten could get her large butt moving.  I was forced to carry her home in 80-degree heat, and she's no lightweight.  And now, the spoiled brat is sulking.  Oh well, that's what I get for trying to walk a cat.

I just felt compelled to add...

That my freaking cat has turned in to Houdini. Yesterday she opened the back door, and then pushed on the storm door, escaped, and hid in the bushes for 20 minutes. For those 20 minutes, I stood in the backyard in a pink bathrobe and my white Dansko nursing clogs, and tried to entice her out with a squeaking mouse (toy, not the real thing. If it had been the real thing, she'd have come out sooner). She did the model walk past me, and I nabbed her. WTH? After we got back inside, she acted like she was possessed, chewing on the door. If I had wanted an animal that chewed, I'd have found a dog, or a goat. She's still mad at me. Oh well, if she stays away from me all day, I will be spared the pleasure of waking up at 3:00pm to find that I have acquired a large, purring fur hat. Speaking of bed, why am I not there now, since I do have to work tonight? Because I can't sleep as usual.