AppleTreePets: Day Fourteen

Sibling Rivalry

Our days are fairly routine. Eli usually wakes me with a plaintive, "helllooOo?" As in, "Are you still alive in there? We're starvin' out here!" I crawl out of bed; get my bearings; and immediately trip over Jack, who is normally hard to miss, but matches the color of the floor precisely. After making sure I haven't hit my head and am now dead, I look for my glasses (Note to self - try putting glasses on first.) and get ready for the day ahead.

I do three things simultaneously: 1) Make coffee 2) Grab four cat bowls out of the dishwasher and 3) Pray Jack's bladder is holding today. Oh, and I do those things with Fancy's "help." Despite the fact the space I'm working on is just wide enough for four cat bowls, Fancy positions himself over top of those four bowls. He balances himself on the tiny space; an amazing feat which could never be carried out by a dog. What isn't so amazing is that I can't see what I'm doing! He attempts to eat all of the food as I am dividing it into four servings. Eli, Finn and Chance wait patiently; seemingly unaware that their brother wants to starve them to death. Since the coffee pot is also on that tiny space, there is a good chance my cup of coffee will contain cat hair. (Cat hair floats in the air here, so we just assume it is in everything we eat, drink and breathe.)

Okay. So the cats have been fed and coffee has been made. On a really good day, Jack hangs out on the couch for the few seconds it takes me to let him out. On a bad day, he says, "f- -k it" and pees in the dining room. Rooney, who doesn't care about anything other than whether or not Dad is home, is usually looking for him or taking inventory of her toys. It is a bit of a chore getting them rounded up to go out, but eventually they give in to "the Mom voice." First stop on the way to the yard is the rabbit hutch. Awhile back, Roxy wasn't happy with the quality of the carrots I gave her so she lobbed them all out of her condo, much to Rooney's delight. Rooney is convinced that there will be more treats forthcoming. She never gives up hope - 5-6 times a day, every day of the week.

For the cats, the daily routine consists of eating, pooping, playing, exploring, eating again, more pooping, napping, eating again, pooping, etc. In between I may or may not get some snuggles. It depends on whether or not there's any action like annoying squirrels or lizards to be caught. Jack and Rooney are couch potatoes so, unless someone rings the doorbell, they are sleeping. Jack will open one eye if I pass by, I guess to see if I'm packing treats.

We all manage our little routine fairly nicely. That is, until something disturbs it. Like, say, the grandkids spend the night. That's when ALL of my fur kids panic. It's kind of like when a new patient is admitted to a psych ward (picture "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.) Everybody freaks out. The fur kids know most of my attention will be directed toward my grandkids. I basically turn into a cross between a servant and Merryweather, the fat blue fairy in Cinderella. I flit around bringing snacks and drinks; adjusting tv programming and granting wishes like, "Gigi, can you buy me a Legos toy?" (This request comes at any and all hours of the day and night.) Or, "Gigi, can we discuss the meaning of life?"

Meanwhile, the other residents of the asylum, go into full blown panic mode. The cats: Their pupils enlarge and they start panting. I can almost hear what they're thinking: "Hey! We were here first!" "Crap! What if she forgets to feed us?" "Look! She's sweating and holding her back! What if they kill her and we starve to death??" Jack turns into Generalissimo Jack - He Who Must be Obeyed. His rules are: No fighting, or even what appears to be fighting, but is simple human contact. No cartwheels. No running. Just sit quietly. Rooney takes advantage of me being distracted and looks for things she knows she's not supposed to eat - candy, pancakes, potato chips, Legos, etc. Even Roxy and Petey get in on the craziness. Roxy thumps around like, "Hey, come see me!" And Petey recognizes our granddaughter's voice and comes out of hiding, hoping she'll play with him. It's all manic!

The Day After looks like this: Nobody woke me, so I slept too long which gave me a headache. It felt like a hangover! Everybody is quiet. Of course they are - they're exhausted from driving me batshit crazy yesterday because our granddaughter was here all day; sick with a cold. Nobody is bugging me for anything. I guess sibling rivalry can be inter-species as well.