Thursday, January 27, 2011

Idle Threats

Good morning.  Well, not really. But, "Hey."  I am not a morning person.  For people who know me well, this is not news.  I was going to try to sleep a little late today since I'm a little tired, you know, from all that reading...go back to "They Don't Build 'Em Like They Used To" if you don't get it.

Well, the cats had another thing in mind for me this morning: not sleeping.  When I took Spot out for his early morning necessities, Sinatra and Pete snuck in my room.  I used to let them sleep in the bedroom years ago, before they became so obnoxious.  Now, no way.  You'll see why in a minute.

So, I come back in with Spot and see Sinatra and Pete on my bed side by side looking like a greeting card.  Ok, well, I'm only going to catch a couple of winks so I let them stay.  Mistake!  I crawled back in bed to try to warm up because of course it's cold outside.  That's all it takes to let these two know to let the mayhem begin.

Pete is walking across my head...back and forth, back and forth. Dude, that's my head.  Move!  Sinatra starts jumping around on the furniture.  Ok, that's it, you boys are going back out.  Pete is easy to remove.  Sinatra runs under the bed, of course.  Back in bed. Sinatra jumps on this lovely primative table I have.  It's lovely but it's not terribly stable.  Ok, time for him to go, too.  I make the grab before he can leap under the bed again and toss his big fluffy butt out.

Back in bed.  Please, five minutes of peace, quiet, and warmth before my day begins.  I'm under the delusion that my day hasn't already begun.  I think I can go back to sleep for a minute and call it a do over.  Then, I hear water. I hear water that sounds like urination, but then it goes on too long.  What? What the blank blank blank is that blanking noise?!  I get up again really especially unhappy this time and turn on the overhead light.

Somehow Sinatra has knocked over the vase on that table without me hearing it and then rigged it with some sort of delay so the water didn't start running out until he was out and I was back in bed.  And,the water is spilling all over the radio and the lamp on the table and running down on the hat boxes underneath.  Sinatra!!!!!!  You cat of unmarried parents!!!!!

I'm looking for a towel now because, yes, it's that much freaking water everywhere.  I get it cleaned up and give up on going back to bed.  Open the door and there's the guilty party, Mr. Sinatra himself.  Ooohhh, you cat.  I'm going to get you.  He looks unrepentant. I lunge for him and he hops off in his bunny hopping imitation of a run.  He's too fat and fluffy to actually run like a real cat.  I'm too tired to run after his cocky blanky blanky blank blank.  But, I start mumbling threats.

Yeah, I'm not having any more cats.  Yeah, maybe I won't even let you guys live here till you head for the big kitty box in the sky.  Oh Sinatra, you're going to be voted off the island like Sasha.  Send you all to a county shelter.  I'm mad.

Pete starts to apologize.  "Look, now, I only walked across your head a couple of times.  Let's be reasonable about this.  It won't happen again. I'm old and we've been together a long time.  Surely we can work this out."

Harlow is frantic, "Oh no! Oh no! I've been to a county shelter.  Those are bad places guys.  Really bad places. We don't want to end-up there."

Sinatra is still unrepentant, "Aw shut up Harlow.  Quit your whining.  Pete act like a real cat.  Act like you don't care.  We got what we wanted.  She's up.  Now she's going to feed us.  Hehehe, county shelter, right.  Sure.  Send us off. You know you won't do it.  Idle threats." And, with a swish of his tail, he's off to the kitchen to await his heart medicine and breakfast.

Yes, I eventually feed them and give Sinatra his heart medicine. Sinatra has the nerve to purr.  Boogers.  Truly, after these guys there will be no more cats.  I've had cats for over 20 years.  I've loved them.  But, I'm on to dogs now.  They keep their business outside so it doesn't have to be scooped out of a box.  They are loyal.  There's no a.m. taunting with a dog. Of course I love my horses, too, but they aren't really house pets.  Although, Tar would be if he could fit.

So, that's my morning start here on the farm.  Hope your return to the conscience world was more peaceful than mine this morning!  Off to teach lessons to two cool kids, including good ol' cutie pie Cowgirl Pinkie. Later, one child who watches too much Animal Planet and plays too many horse video games.  She thinks she knows it all. It's hard to teach someone who knows it all because there's no room in their brain for actual useful information.  But, it's a business and her grandparents keep on paying.

By-the-way, the talking animals are my mom's doing.  She claims responsibility from having my stuffed animals read me stories when I was a kid.  So, it's not farm induced psychosis, it's early imprinting.  Just in case you were wondering.

Take care. Have a good day!

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