Cattage...
Feb. 20th, 2005 11:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hafocI've got a long weekend, so of course it's gray and snowing ALL the TIME. Worse, I'm fighting a cold. It just figures.
I'll be ok, but the night before last was pretty miserable. I was shivering under my blankets. It seemed I couldn't get to sleep, and whenever I started to drop off the combination of congestion and the air pressure mask I wear to take care of my snoring caused me to HONK like a diesel truck. I mean, really. It echoed in there. That must have happened half a dozen times. And then I had to keep going to the bathroom. I don't know where all the water came from, I certainly didn't drink that much.
After much suffering I finally drifted off. This must have been at 4:00 am. Naturally, I turned the clock radio off. If it turned out that I ever did get to sleep that miserable night, I had no plan to get up at dawn. I was going to sleep in.
Unfortunately, I didn't clear that plan with the Feline Contingent.
I always close them out of my bedroom at night. I used to let Penny Cat sleep with me, but the kittens get into everything, so I've had to take protective measures.
Unfortunately, the door is not absolutely paw-tight. There's a crack under the door, and the door has one of those spring-type door stops screwed into it. At least one cat-- I suspect Patches-- has learned that she can reach under the door, hook that doorstop, and get it to BOOOOIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGG!!! loud enough to crack your fillings.
I gritted my teeth and ignored it, figuring they'd get bored and go away. Next thing I know, a cat jumps on my bed.
I'm used to that too, since the Phantom Kitty does that fairly often. But then another cat leaped on the bed, and I came to realize that the LIVING cats were in my room. I opened a red-rimmed eye and stared across the room. I could make out that the bedroom door was open. I must not have latched it.
Well, what could possibly happen? I had Penny in the crook of my arm and one of the little ones down between my ankles, and if somebody else was rooting around among the watches and keys and pens and stuff on the desk, I could grit my teeth and sleep with that, right? So what if I'd have to pick all that stuff off the floor later?
Of course Penny climed up on my chest and laid her tail across my nose. I like to brush the tips of her ears when she's trying to sleep, to watch them twitch. She was getting payback.
I pushed her aside. Patches came up to investigate, and then jumped up on my bedside table, climbed on my radio, and stepped on the power button. It came on. Loud.
At which point I gave up, got up, went out to the living room and slept in the easy chair. Sitting up, this limited the cats' ability to bedevil me.
I thought Patches turned on the radio by accident. But later that day I was sitting by the front window, with another radio on the windowsill. I'd turned it off while I watched TV, but she came over and started batting at it. Pawing at it. Trying to turn the volume knob.
This one she can't turn on because the power button is on the front, not the top. But I have a spooky feeling she knew exactly what she was doing. She is too smart for my own good, that one.
I hate it when they torment me in the mornings like that. They know they can get away with it because I'm too groggy and uncoordinated to KILL THEM.
I'll be ok, but the night before last was pretty miserable. I was shivering under my blankets. It seemed I couldn't get to sleep, and whenever I started to drop off the combination of congestion and the air pressure mask I wear to take care of my snoring caused me to HONK like a diesel truck. I mean, really. It echoed in there. That must have happened half a dozen times. And then I had to keep going to the bathroom. I don't know where all the water came from, I certainly didn't drink that much.
After much suffering I finally drifted off. This must have been at 4:00 am. Naturally, I turned the clock radio off. If it turned out that I ever did get to sleep that miserable night, I had no plan to get up at dawn. I was going to sleep in.
Unfortunately, I didn't clear that plan with the Feline Contingent.
I always close them out of my bedroom at night. I used to let Penny Cat sleep with me, but the kittens get into everything, so I've had to take protective measures.
Unfortunately, the door is not absolutely paw-tight. There's a crack under the door, and the door has one of those spring-type door stops screwed into it. At least one cat-- I suspect Patches-- has learned that she can reach under the door, hook that doorstop, and get it to BOOOOIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGG!!! loud enough to crack your fillings.
I gritted my teeth and ignored it, figuring they'd get bored and go away. Next thing I know, a cat jumps on my bed.
I'm used to that too, since the Phantom Kitty does that fairly often. But then another cat leaped on the bed, and I came to realize that the LIVING cats were in my room. I opened a red-rimmed eye and stared across the room. I could make out that the bedroom door was open. I must not have latched it.
Well, what could possibly happen? I had Penny in the crook of my arm and one of the little ones down between my ankles, and if somebody else was rooting around among the watches and keys and pens and stuff on the desk, I could grit my teeth and sleep with that, right? So what if I'd have to pick all that stuff off the floor later?
Of course Penny climed up on my chest and laid her tail across my nose. I like to brush the tips of her ears when she's trying to sleep, to watch them twitch. She was getting payback.
I pushed her aside. Patches came up to investigate, and then jumped up on my bedside table, climbed on my radio, and stepped on the power button. It came on. Loud.
At which point I gave up, got up, went out to the living room and slept in the easy chair. Sitting up, this limited the cats' ability to bedevil me.
I thought Patches turned on the radio by accident. But later that day I was sitting by the front window, with another radio on the windowsill. I'd turned it off while I watched TV, but she came over and started batting at it. Pawing at it. Trying to turn the volume knob.
This one she can't turn on because the power button is on the front, not the top. But I have a spooky feeling she knew exactly what she was doing. She is too smart for my own good, that one.
I hate it when they torment me in the mornings like that. They know they can get away with it because I'm too groggy and uncoordinated to KILL THEM.
