Day One Hundred Sixty Six

One, Two, Three, Four - I Declare a Bed War

I am in a fog this morning. I had just decided Rooney seemed to be over getting on the bed at night, when she changed things up again. Last night, Rooney wanted to sleep in our bed. It's a king size bed, so there is plenty of room - if everybody respects personal space. Rooney does not understand that concept. She is like someone dropped a 142 pound rock on the bed - and they didn't care where it landed. Last night the rock landed in the space formerly known as "mine."

I was having weird dreams about falling off cliffs and tall buildings. I think it was my sub-conscious trying to warn me I was close to falling off the bed. I finally woke and realized why I was so miserable. There was a whale where the rest of me should have been. I tried moving her but - ha - try moving a boulder with one good arm. I did my best imitation of that ant who tried to move the rubber tree plant, but I just couldn't budge her. She was not waking up or moving.

Realizing I was defeated, I went in search of another place to sleep. Even though Chance and Dash were cuddled together on the bed in the front room, I asked them to please make room for me. Chance was nice about it; Dash thought I came to play. It was 3 a.m., and I know cats can't tell time, but come on! Really?

Unless you woke me up to play,
would you please leave.

Dash proceeded to  annoy me. He tried to examine my face, like he'd never seen one before. I learned from past experience, he is especially curious about the inside of my mouth, up my nose and my eyeballs. This time, I was awake, so I stopped him before he could stick his paw into my mouth! He was like Helen Keller, discovering Anne Sullivan's face for the first time. I was not interested in playing Anne to his Helen.

So, I asked him to please just curl up with me and go back to sleep. He sort of did. His idea of sleeping during the night is different than mine, though. I like to actually sleep - while he dozes, then has a burst of energy, then dozes someplace else, then runs and dives, using me as a springboard to get to the cat tree. Once there, he finds the noisiest possible thing to do, like cracking the wooden blinds' pull against the window - repeatedly. He loves the sound; it is like waterboarding to me.

Andy and I met in the family room this morning as I was walking out of the front bedroom and he was leaving for work. Andy, "She bothered you last night?" Me, "Yep." Andy, "Hmmm, well what are we gonna do?" Me, "We? Um, you're the one who let her on the bed in the first place. I think it's only fair you should fix this."

That isn't exactly the way the conversation went. That's the way my mind heard it. In reality, it was more like, Andy, "Uh oh?" Me, " mumble, grumble, eye roll..." Andy, "Bye, love you." Me, "snerkich, coffee, go..."  Yep, that's about right.

So, the cats are enjoying another day outside. They love this cooler weather. If Dash can't find something, he creates an adventure in his mind. I love seeing him "dashing" across the deck, then jumping into the air. So far, he has avoided the pool. I like to think his brothers warned him, but it's more likely they tried to push him in but he's too fast and too smart to let them.

Listen to me, kid. The other cats are going to
try to get you into the water. Don't let them!
It's cold and scary. Got it?