![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
juushikaCat story the first.
At evil o'clock (usually between 6 and 8 a.m.) the cat wakes me by scratching at my closet door. The closet is where the food lives; she eats "breakfast" at 11a. If I yell at and/or ignore her and go back to sleep, she'll do it again, every hour or so. She'll only do it if I'm sleeping. She does it because I'm sleeping.
If I get up, she'll run under the bed. I can't bribe her with a piece of food—I must actually put an entire serving in her bowl. And then I pick her up before she can eat it and lock her in the bathroom until 11a.
This morning, she did the scratching thing and I did the yelling thing and then she ... seemed to let me go back to bed. But then I would hear a random, weird and muffled, scratching noise, but I couldn't see the cat. It was less annoying but much stranger than usual, so I finally got up. I couldn't find her anywhere—in the closet, under the bed.
The cat had gotten herself stuck in a mostly-zipped up suitcase in my closet.
I rolled the suitcase out of my room and into the bathroom and then I let her out so that she could spend the next few hours not annoying me.
Cat story the second.
When I was in San Francisco, Dee went up to see the Mariners for their opening game. We were going to ask our neighbor to catsit, so she was out of town; instead, Devon drove up for a few days. (It gets better: This week, my father is driving down to California to meet my mother, who is coming back northward after a few months spent with my grandparents in Texas. While he's in California, I'm heading to Corvallis to housesit and watch Jamie the dog.) Just after he came home, we had the following IM conversation.
Devon: I didn't know when you were feeding August, so I just fed her every twelve hours. You know 11:00 am and 11:00 pm. I don't know how much she liked waiting that long for foods in the morning.
Me: yep that's exactly when I've been feeding her actually
so that "waiting"
was not waiting
it was her normal time
Devon: Sweet.
Me: NOW YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL
At evil o'clock (usually between 6 and 8 a.m.) the cat wakes me by scratching at my closet door. The closet is where the food lives; she eats "breakfast" at 11a. If I yell at and/or ignore her and go back to sleep, she'll do it again, every hour or so. She'll only do it if I'm sleeping. She does it because I'm sleeping.
If I get up, she'll run under the bed. I can't bribe her with a piece of food—I must actually put an entire serving in her bowl. And then I pick her up before she can eat it and lock her in the bathroom until 11a.
This morning, she did the scratching thing and I did the yelling thing and then she ... seemed to let me go back to bed. But then I would hear a random, weird and muffled, scratching noise, but I couldn't see the cat. It was less annoying but much stranger than usual, so I finally got up. I couldn't find her anywhere—in the closet, under the bed.
The cat had gotten herself stuck in a mostly-zipped up suitcase in my closet.
I rolled the suitcase out of my room and into the bathroom and then I let her out so that she could spend the next few hours not annoying me.
Cat story the second.
When I was in San Francisco, Dee went up to see the Mariners for their opening game. We were going to ask our neighbor to catsit, so she was out of town; instead, Devon drove up for a few days. (It gets better: This week, my father is driving down to California to meet my mother, who is coming back northward after a few months spent with my grandparents in Texas. While he's in California, I'm heading to Corvallis to housesit and watch Jamie the dog.) Just after he came home, we had the following IM conversation.
Devon: I didn't know when you were feeding August, so I just fed her every twelve hours. You know 11:00 am and 11:00 pm. I don't know how much she liked waiting that long for foods in the morning.
Me: yep that's exactly when I've been feeding her actually
so that "waiting"
was not waiting
it was her normal time
Devon: Sweet.
Me: NOW YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL
