Last night…

It was midnight when it happened.  I was awoken out of a dead sleep by a multitude of sharps pains in my feet!  I immediately pulled my feet up and away from the two kittens who had weaseled their way under the blankets at the bottom of the bed.  Daisy and Smokey then ran from the room and all three of the cats went on to make a ruckus in the rest of the house.  Crash, boom, bang, and I never did get back to sleep.  I tossed and turned, but to no avail.

Now here I sit feeling cheated out of my sleep.  I had no motivation to make tea and due to a dream I had the other night that I was drinking coffee, I went ahead and had a sip of John’s this morning here, just to see.  Well, that was disgusting.  It did not taste like that in my dream.  Actually, in my dream it had no taste at all.  Oh well.

Living with three cats in a one bedroom apartment is an experience.  All three are distinctly cats, but none the less have their own distinct personalities.  Such as Daisy who I can guess was the perpetrator of last nights attack.  She has learned that the blankets at the bottom of the bed lead to feet.  She has also learned that if she weasels under the blankets at the top of the bed, she is warm and gets hugs and pats.  She did this this morning as thought to make up for last night.  All purrs and snuggles, who could stay mad?

So Smokey was basically a follower in that situation.  She is not the sort to be under blankets on her own.  She is however the one who wants to lie across my book or my key pad, or sit on my hand on top of the mouse.  Daisy on the other hand will sit in my lap like she is reading with me.  Then we have Scout who has no interest in my books, or anything else I might be doing.  Oh, don’t get me wrong, he is watching me.

Scout and I have a different sort of relationship than with the other two.  He coaxes me into petting him, and then he smacks me.  John says he is playing.  I can see that he is.  Problem is, he is the biggest of the three and doesn’t seem to realize it.  So when I pet him, it is actually when I go to take my hand away that he grabs my hand and of course my reaction is to pull away which is what hurts.  He doesn’t seem to understand he is hurting me and the thing is, if I can keep myself from pulling my hand away, he doesn’t hurt me, but I have to say he can be scary and I can’t help yanking my hand away.  Oh, and when I say scary, I just mean in a startling sort of way.  He is not mean.  He is very sweet.  Sometimes it seems he just wants to hold on to my hand and I can’t get away.  Sort of like when Daisy sits with me, if she is not on my lap, she will put her paw out to lay it on me.  All three of the cats like a lot of physical contact.  Scout just happens to have chosen John for most of his.  He doesn’t play around with John the way he does with me.  Which reminds me, I should mention, clearly because if I don’t mention it and John reads this, he will.  Anyway, I do sort of antagonize Scout.  The way he antagonizes me I mean.  Rough him up a little bit.  I figure if I am going to end bleeding anyway, I might as well have fun with him.  John says that is just “our thing”, me and Scout.  I will also admit making fun of the stripe on his nose.  It does make him look kind of dopey.

All three are very close with us at this point, but I don’t forget when they were little and were terrified of us.  Even now when we bring something new into the house they hide.  They are not happy with my guitars.  One of them knocked on over and the sound it made scared the daylights out of all of them.  John was wearing a hood one day and Smokey was afraid of him.  Funny little creatures, especially when you consider the trust they have with us.  Like when Scout goes to sit on John’s lap, only he doesn’t realize he has grown and is to big, he just drops down and expects John to catch him, which of course he does.  They love us.  That’s the thing.




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