Round Table Farm

Donkeys, Goats, Books and Chickens

Love the Fuzzy

This post originally appeared on Darkcargo.com on 12/30/2010. It is reposted here with permission of Lady Darkcargo.

 

I love my cats. They are spoiled. I treat this as the natural order of the universe. My house, my cats, my rules.

However, the events of the other night made me think about revising the house rules pertaining to my cats. I was kicked in the face, stabbed in the eye, and had furniture slammed against my side of the bed. All in the space of 6 hours. All by my most beloved pets, my kitties.

Heldig (special points to those of you who know what this word is and what language) is a pip-squeak of a cat, barely 5 pounds, a voracious eater – knows how to open the dresser drawers. Damn. Fuzzy little package of evil opened the top most dresser drawer by my bed, slipped down behind and kicked the second drawer open, slamming it into the side table by my bed, awakening me. Evil! I have to go to work in 6 hours! I am not getting up to feed you right now!

So, settled down, back to sleep and I have this most lucid of dreams. A sharp needle sliding into my eyesocket, just above my closed right eye. I didn’t dare breath. I didn’t dare blink. There was a weight, with the hint of 4 more needles, and then the vicious implement slid out. Awful dream.

Up to tinkle, curl back into bed. So cozy, on a winter morning. Such luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets, quilts made by granma. I pulled the sheet over my head, to capture the slight moisture of breathing, ceasing the dry nasal pain that is prevalent to us living in the desert in winter. I hear a slight thump, my husband’s muffled scream (a cat had fallen asleep on the headboard and slid off, landing on his head, nearly piercing his earlobe), and then a scramble of paws and a kick to the face. F#ucking A!

F#cking A! is my cuss phrase of choice. It makes me sound Canadian. And no one really knows what the A is for. I like ambiguity in my cussing.

Roll over, snuggle done in the fetal position with sheet and quilt pulled over my head. Almost asleep.

BBGGGZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

5AM. Time to get up for work. Put on the game face. Commute. Act like I care. Why does my eyesocket ache? I check the mirror. One small pinprick of a hole. Just big enough for a cat claw!

Does anyone want to adopt a snuggly cat or 8?

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2 Comments

  1. hubby and I laughed so hard at this post! we are laughing with you, not at you, I promise! how in the world does your little 5lb ball of evil have enough leverage to get those dresser drawers even open? ever notice how the laws of physics don’t apply to cats, except when they fall on someone’s head?

    you’ve seen the Simon’s Cat videos, right?
    http://www.simonscat.com/

    • Simon’s Cat is pretty funny. Thanks for the leaving the link.

      We have since put child locks on the dresser drawers to prevent Evil Wittle Kitty from pulling them open. Or from other cats giving birth in the bottom most drawer as happened our first year here.

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