2007 Story Set
| Date: June 8, 2007 How many times can a kitten-cat leap from the floor to the top of a bed and skulk around trying to find a spot of warm, sleepy skin to reach with her cold, wet nose in the early hours of the morning? How many times can you boot her unceremoniously off said bed and have her return? I have no idea because I only last avbout 45 minutes and my bladder can last less if she lands on it (that WILL get me moving fast!). Once 6AM hits - there is no stopping the determined beast who knows WHERE the cans of Fancy Feast are held hostage and WHEN she should be getting one. If I feed her and Ranger is in the house, she will, since he eats in stages, eat his too! Which is where she got the idea that TWO cans of Fancy Feast per meal was appropriate (never mind the constantly filled bowl of Nature's Choice dry cat food they both gobble. My son suggested I put the can and can opener on the floor and watch what happens. Nothing different. She knows I have to open it. She will grab it with her paws (and my fingers too) and rub herself all over it while I hold the can but she knows I have to do the honors. This morning her herding me into the kitchen (she will trip me) has not quite worked. I stumbled on one of my Trouser socks. How in blazes? Because, knowing her fondness for these things, I have taken to hiding them. I slapped her - well - as much as one dares slap at a kitten-cat while yelling NO! Bad CAT! Cats do not have a brain that registers that they did something wrong - ever. My son claims they can only hold a thought about 30 seconds. (Wonder how he knows?) But I was half-asleep and pissed. Her fondness leads to the destruction of the said trouser sock (lovely tooth holes, claw marks). I found another one - different pair. Now I was really on the warpath. I stomped back to the bedroom despite her wails of protest and yep, I had left the top dresser drawer not quite closed enough ---- probably looking for my hairbrush last night (which is on the floor) and the little sneak had stuck her head down in it (she has a small head) and absconded with not one, but two of them. Pairs that is. One black and one nude nylon. I have only found one of each. I have checked under my bed. I have the pair I am currently wearing. Not the rest. I have gone to work before with holes in my stockings. I now know to check. I give up and feed the beast, or she will drive me insane with her cries. She has this perfected. Incessant. High-pitched. Grating. She runs before me if I leave the room. She runs before me when I head back. Mostly she tear-asses about the place making noise until I feed her (and sated, she will wash herself and sleep). Well, she will sleep until her pea-brain tells her to grab the yarn and weace more webbing. Or find a piece of paper and play with it for an hour. Or find my trouser sock. (She will, on seeing me anywhere near the kitchen, begin trilling and mewing again in the pathetic attempt to secure a second can of food, even before she's finished the first.) (Not today, Josephine!) I proceeded to read, get breakfast, and attempt dressing. It's Friday, and I couldn't find the brown high-heeled shoe-boots I wanted. I had to tear up a closet, crawl under my bed, and at last move a bag and find it. Reminds me of dressing my children for school. I managed to subdue my hair (no curlers), find clothes that fit (pants - size medium, tank top, size Large Peachskin) (knit can be Medium - just barely), and an XL jacket (needs the cuffs hemmed and it can pass). My 1X, XL and now the Large pants (moleskin) are on their way out of my life. Drats. Some nice moleskin pantsuits there. I am keeping the jackets a bit longer. My 1X and XL tank tops (peachkin) are baggy. I have 8 closets of clothing that is now unuseable. Baggy. Ill-fitting. I opened a packed-up carton (a big one) and these clothes are size 10 - a little too small but not that far off from being wearable again. Another 2 -4 inches. Another 25 lbs. I am NOT shopping - much! I am eyeing a new small spa for this house (the big one is in San Diego and not operational having died on the trip South and besides, you cannot leave a hot spa untreated for 3 weeks at a time!) I am thinking - small SoftTub and then use that motor later on the big SoftTub. Hmmm. There's a thought! Except my son tells me I would never be happy with only 4 jets------- Fortunately the spa would be outside. The toilets have to be closed. The shower closed when wet, and anything you don't want to see strewn on the floor removed from temptation. The wastebaskets must be dumped often. Panty liners, and even my panties have been found in the livingroom. The lid MUST be kept on the hamper! Curious George must have been a cat! I interrupt her making love to her PetCo dog doll (that long skinny thing they have in the commercials), trip over yarn that she was busy re-stringing over everything in a 3-room radius, and dodge the trilling she has started since I was in the kitchen taking my medication. I fled to work. Heaven knows what I will find on the floor when I get home. Perhaps the missing socks. They will be, unfortunately, unwearable by then. |
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