Why do we live with them?
I’d like to go back in time and ask the first person to bring a cat into their house and ask them why in the hell they thought this was a good idea. Cats are just weird all the way around. Sometimes you come home and they act like you are crowding their personal space just by being there. Other times you barely sit down on the couch and they are up in your lap, rubbing all over you, purring like mad.
And why do they insist on following you into the bathroom? And staring at you the entire time? If you take more time than they have allotted, they pace the door like it is your fault that they are trapped in there. The cat I live with thinks that the bathtub is the watering hole. She pretty much refuses to drink anything other than tub water.
Don’t get me started on the fur. It’s on the red couch. It’s on the black chair. It’s on the floor. It’s in my tea when I make it. I don’t even want to think about how much of it that I’ve consumed. I probably have a hairball myself. I vacuum all the damn time. It is a temporary fix.
The minute I take clothes off and throw them to the ground, she is sitting on them. Anything new that comes into the house, if it is on the floor, she will sit on it. The hockey gear is the worst part. She LOVES it. I have to air it out after a game and every time I see her rubbing herself on it. The other night I could hear some rustling around. I was in a hurry that morning and had only put my hockey pants on top of my bag and not inside. Guess where she had curled up? I was not happy.
She has bent the blinds trying to get into the window sill where she watches for the wild turkeys. The couch is completely ruined. She ripped a hole into the underneath part and had a blasty blast romping around in there. I had to take it off. So now she just hides under there and when she is feeling frisky, she lays on her back peeks her head out and claws into the bottom part.
I need to ban her from my room. She cuddles so close to me, I can’t even move. It is a battle all night long. If I find her up there, I kick her off. She jumps right back up. I only have a heater in the front room, so I hate to close the door.
Like a good mom, I got the cat for my child, because he wanted her. I was trying to do the right thing. Now he is gone and it’s just the two of us, making me a single cat lady. It makes me cranky. I hate being cliché. I say this as she is actually lying on my arm as I type. Sigh.
