Wednesday, March 29, 2006
It Was Bound To Happen (Again)
Now that our house is dog-free, it's caused some unintended side effects. Mainly, it's made our cats a LOT more annoying. I know what you're thinking. How could cats possibly get more annoying? I mean, they're CATS! They're annoying by nature. Very true. I can't argue with that. It's just that with a dog, the cats tended to stay hidden more. But as the saying goes, now that the dog's away, the cats will play. (What do you mean, that's not the saying? Go to hell! Get your own blog! Jerk.)
When The Wife and I were living in the townhouse before we got the dog, Moxy and Simba used to sleep on the bed with us. Well, Moxy slept on the bed every night. Simba only did occassionally. Cuz when they both slept on the bed, they'd inevitably end up fighting and one of them would get punted (by me) off the bed.
Once we got the dog, all the sleeping-on-the-bed nonsense stopped. The bedroom became the dogroom. The cats would venture in, but since the mammoth eating machine was in there (Not me, the dog. Jerk. Didn't I tell you to get your own blog already?), they wouldn't stay long. Well, now that the dog's gone, the cats are venturing in more often. And worse, they're staying longer. And even worse, just last night, both cats were at one point on the bed. It's only a matter of time until they're both sleeping with us. This is not going to help my sleeping ability.
What makes the cats really annoying at night is that they're not comfortable just sleeping on the bed. They want to be where it's warm. For Simba, this is usually between your legs (thankfully, OVER the covers). But if you're not used to it, it can be quite discomfitting to wake up with a cat between your legs. (Take your filthy mind to your own blog already! Jerk.) Moxy like sleeping between your legs too, but sometimes that's not enough for him. You see, the feather duvee (how the hell do you spell that?) isn't soft enough for him. So he has to come lay on our pillows. But sometimes that's too cold. So he'll bat you in the head with his paw until you let him under the covers. Then he's so happy that he'll purr loudly and flex his claws (against my leg or arm or any other exposed piece of flesh, turning me into swiss cheese). It probably won't be that bad now that we have a king-sized bed. But when we were sleeping on a full bed, I woke up every morning wanting to strangle the cats.
Another annoying thing about the cats is that they really like being close to me. I mean REALLY close to me. As in, under my feet whenever I try to walk. Moxy, in particular, loves this. As I'm walking, he'll swirl in and out of my legs, getting stepped on and kicked. (This only causes him to move quicker and rub my legs harder.) I'm pretty sure he's trying to kill me. It's only a matter of time until he trips me and I knock my head on a corner. I think that's when he's going to make his move. He's going to go start eating me alive. "This is what you get for not getting me Fancy Feast!"
My only hope would be that Simba dive-bombs him and saves my life. I've forgotten what a bully Simba is. He'll stalk Moxy and constantly bite him or slap at him. It's actually rather amusing. Simba was nowhere to be found for the last two years when Mocha ruled the house. But now Simba's pissed off. He's like Steven Segal in Hard to Kill. He was in a coma for several years. But now he's awake. And he's out to kill everyone who gets in his way. So far, that's just been Moxy. But Simba did spend the better part of an hour meowing loudly one night this week. I'm sure he was laying on a stair, waiting for me to come downstairs to stop the noise. Then he was going to trip me and eat me alive.
I don't know why I'm so certain that the cats want to eat me alive, but I know they do. So if you haven't heard from me in awhile, please call the cops and tell them what happened. "The cats have finally teamed up and had him killed. They're eating him now." On second thought, maybe you'd better just come over and check on me yourself. Unless, that is, you'd rather spend the next several years in the loony bin.
When The Wife and I were living in the townhouse before we got the dog, Moxy and Simba used to sleep on the bed with us. Well, Moxy slept on the bed every night. Simba only did occassionally. Cuz when they both slept on the bed, they'd inevitably end up fighting and one of them would get punted (by me) off the bed.
Once we got the dog, all the sleeping-on-the-bed nonsense stopped. The bedroom became the dogroom. The cats would venture in, but since the mammoth eating machine was in there (Not me, the dog. Jerk. Didn't I tell you to get your own blog already?), they wouldn't stay long. Well, now that the dog's gone, the cats are venturing in more often. And worse, they're staying longer. And even worse, just last night, both cats were at one point on the bed. It's only a matter of time until they're both sleeping with us. This is not going to help my sleeping ability.
What makes the cats really annoying at night is that they're not comfortable just sleeping on the bed. They want to be where it's warm. For Simba, this is usually between your legs (thankfully, OVER the covers). But if you're not used to it, it can be quite discomfitting to wake up with a cat between your legs. (Take your filthy mind to your own blog already! Jerk.) Moxy like sleeping between your legs too, but sometimes that's not enough for him. You see, the feather duvee (how the hell do you spell that?) isn't soft enough for him. So he has to come lay on our pillows. But sometimes that's too cold. So he'll bat you in the head with his paw until you let him under the covers. Then he's so happy that he'll purr loudly and flex his claws (against my leg or arm or any other exposed piece of flesh, turning me into swiss cheese). It probably won't be that bad now that we have a king-sized bed. But when we were sleeping on a full bed, I woke up every morning wanting to strangle the cats.
Another annoying thing about the cats is that they really like being close to me. I mean REALLY close to me. As in, under my feet whenever I try to walk. Moxy, in particular, loves this. As I'm walking, he'll swirl in and out of my legs, getting stepped on and kicked. (This only causes him to move quicker and rub my legs harder.) I'm pretty sure he's trying to kill me. It's only a matter of time until he trips me and I knock my head on a corner. I think that's when he's going to make his move. He's going to go start eating me alive. "This is what you get for not getting me Fancy Feast!"
My only hope would be that Simba dive-bombs him and saves my life. I've forgotten what a bully Simba is. He'll stalk Moxy and constantly bite him or slap at him. It's actually rather amusing. Simba was nowhere to be found for the last two years when Mocha ruled the house. But now Simba's pissed off. He's like Steven Segal in Hard to Kill. He was in a coma for several years. But now he's awake. And he's out to kill everyone who gets in his way. So far, that's just been Moxy. But Simba did spend the better part of an hour meowing loudly one night this week. I'm sure he was laying on a stair, waiting for me to come downstairs to stop the noise. Then he was going to trip me and eat me alive.
I don't know why I'm so certain that the cats want to eat me alive, but I know they do. So if you haven't heard from me in awhile, please call the cops and tell them what happened. "The cats have finally teamed up and had him killed. They're eating him now." On second thought, maybe you'd better just come over and check on me yourself. Unless, that is, you'd rather spend the next several years in the loony bin.
