Living in the Cat House

Life with cats is different than living with dogs. I learned that pretty quickly. Those doggie doors we used to keep the dogs out of our bedrooms? The expensive ones from Petsmart? Those are useless. Cats can go through them, or over them. Probably even under them if the need should arise. Jeanne has one of them now, and I offered the other one to Lori last weekend. So you have to get used to nothing being sacred or off limits. NOTHING! Some people close their bedroom doors, but that brings about scratching of the door, loud meowing, and the worst...tearing up the carpet in front of said door. I would rather deal with the inconvenience of having the sanctity of my bedroom violated. And oh yes, it is violated every single night and day....and also? I happen to love it, so whatever, right?

Living in a cat house involves other things too. Like throw rugs being constantly balled up no matter how many times I bend over to straighten them. Sometimes I find strange objects underneath the rugs, things like the round pulls off of milk cartons, or bread bag ties, or earrings and hair rubber bands. Its like they find this wonderful treasure and then hide it. I think the rugs being balled up is from their scratching a place to bury their booty. I also cannot have guest towels hanging in Stephen's bathroom. Apparently its a game to see how many times I will go hang the towel up after finding it on the floor underneath the towel rack. Eventually I give up. If you are here and can't find anything to dry your hands on, I apologize. Open the linen closet and use a clean towel....and then just throw it on the floor because that is where its going to end up anyway. Clean laundry is the best place for napping....not the dirty stuff.
Needless to say it helps me expedite the folding and putting away process to spare rewashing. Cats are very helpful in that respect.

Nights are eventful, too. We always have at least 1 cat in our bed. Sometimes 3. Sometimes a kitty parade takes place, and we are walked on like stepping stones. Rarely do we have adequate foot space to stretch out, and often find ourselves clinging to the edge of the bed to accomodate sleeping kitties. And its a king sized bed, too. I am not sure that beds come any bigger. Omen snores. Its fine, because apparently so do we. The trick is to be the first one in bed and the first one to go to sleep.

This morning? My Saturday to sleep in? I was awakened at exactly 6:20, which happens to be the time our alarm goes off during the work week. Bitty was standing on my chest meowing a mere inch away from my sleeping face. She seems to think that humans discern sound from the nose/mouth area. By 6:25 I gave up and got up to feed them. I did sneak back into bed afterwards, but sleep was pretty futile. They ate and then made their way back to parade up and down our bed. And somehow the cuteness factor made me totally forget that I had every right to be annoyed. How they do that, I don't know....but let me feel the first twinges of aggravation and one of them does something so insanely adorable that I forget to be angry.