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How Not To Wake Up
11/20/10 10:29 amThe cats like breakfast around 8 am. I like to stay up reading until 3 am. Obviously 5 hours of sleep is a non-starter, so Mike generally feeds them. Of course, this apparently doesn't count as a "real" breakfast, so they start trying to get me to get up around 9 or 10, proclaiming loudly that no, they haven't eaten, how can I say that, pleeeease feed us naow!!!
Jack jumps from the floor to the back of my desk chair over and over and over, eroo-ing and merr-ing; Bill strolls around squeaking and purring really really loud; Maggie hisses and growls at Bill; Beau brings a milk ring into the bed and plays with it, when he's not galloping back and forth across my legs.
Usually I can ignore these things, but this morning they made a change I really couldn't ignore.
It started with Maggie growling and hissing at Bill, as he tried to come into my room. She was crouched down next to the cat sand, I guess she wanted it cleaned out. I told her hush and rolled over. Dozed off. At some point she got up on the cat shelves, and Bill decided it would be A Good Thing to chase her, so he got up there too. Then Beau took exception to that, and got up on the computer desk wauing and making his eerie Siamese noises at Bill (which is the only time he really says anything -- weird meezer). I told him to leave Bill alone and move, and he'd get down.
Happened to glance up, and Maggie is on the shelf over my head. That's okay. Until somehow she falls off, and lands directly on my left eye.
Maggie weighs about 18 lbs.
I now have a 6 inch long scratch down the bottom of my left arm, a stab wound just under my left eyebrow, and a scrape just above it. Luckily she just stomped my eye, didn't scratch it or put it out or anything. Right after she did it I clapped my hand to my eye, and moaned for a bit. "Ow, Maggie," I said calmly -- she didn't mean it, there's no reason to yell at her.
I tell you what, 18 lbs of fat calico cat landing on your eye is NOT fun. I'm going to have a nice shiner for Harry Potter tomorrow. I'll just have to tell people I was poked in the eye by a Horcrux or something...
Jack jumps from the floor to the back of my desk chair over and over and over, eroo-ing and merr-ing; Bill strolls around squeaking and purring really really loud; Maggie hisses and growls at Bill; Beau brings a milk ring into the bed and plays with it, when he's not galloping back and forth across my legs.
Usually I can ignore these things, but this morning they made a change I really couldn't ignore.
It started with Maggie growling and hissing at Bill, as he tried to come into my room. She was crouched down next to the cat sand, I guess she wanted it cleaned out. I told her hush and rolled over. Dozed off. At some point she got up on the cat shelves, and Bill decided it would be A Good Thing to chase her, so he got up there too. Then Beau took exception to that, and got up on the computer desk wauing and making his eerie Siamese noises at Bill (which is the only time he really says anything -- weird meezer). I told him to leave Bill alone and move, and he'd get down.
Happened to glance up, and Maggie is on the shelf over my head. That's okay. Until somehow she falls off, and lands directly on my left eye.
Maggie weighs about 18 lbs.
I now have a 6 inch long scratch down the bottom of my left arm, a stab wound just under my left eyebrow, and a scrape just above it. Luckily she just stomped my eye, didn't scratch it or put it out or anything. Right after she did it I clapped my hand to my eye, and moaned for a bit. "Ow, Maggie," I said calmly -- she didn't mean it, there's no reason to yell at her.
I tell you what, 18 lbs of fat calico cat landing on your eye is NOT fun. I'm going to have a nice shiner for Harry Potter tomorrow. I'll just have to tell people I was poked in the eye by a Horcrux or something...
