I tried to be good but the cats got in the way
I've done the washing. I answered the e-mails. I ate my dinner, even all the peas I cooked myself, and I don't even like peas. Why did I cook them? Issues.
But everytime I sit down to write a report, Charlie makes himself at home on either my laptop, or the file I am reviewing. And he has a face full of love. I can't boot that face off. I tried, but I felt so guilty that I still couldn't work.
And now there is a HUGE spider somewhere downstairs. I didn't do anything when I saw it as the cats were all around and I thought one of them would catch it and torture it.
Did they bollocks.
The five of them, yes all five, bopped it and then ran away when it came towards them. It disappeared under the TV stand. Useless creatures. So now there is a HUGE spider roaming around the house.
So I sat back down to do some work. Ellie decided to dive bomb my file - she wanted to play with the laser pen and she is coming up with more and more outrageous stunts to get me to try and distract her from her naughtiness with the laser pen. I started to pick up my scattered papers.
Within milliseconds, Charlie leapt off of the cat tree, where he was pouting, and was taking up both my seat and my laptop. I gave up.
So here I am. Avoiding both the HUGE spider and the report that I really should be writing.
Not that things are much saner up here. Harvey is sleeping in a box. Not a box designed for cats, but just a random cardboard box filled with odds and ends. Sounds normal? This box is half his size. He does not fit in the box by any stretch of the imagination. No limbs are in the box, his tail is draped across the floor and his throat is laying on the edge of the box, making him produce some very strange noises. I probably should be wearing ear plugs. But I can't. For reasons I shall get to.
Willow is sleeping in my dressing gown, on the loft bed. Tabby cat. In a cream dressing gown. Tabby cat. Known to bite when comfortable and forced to move.
Frankie is stealing my clean underwear. He thinks I can't see what he is doing, but I can. He is slowly advancing along the bannister where they are drying , and then he steals them, and runs back with my little lacy numbers to stash in his catbed. Along with the socks, earplugs, boxer shorts and mousies that he has stolen today. I have a kleptomanaic cat.
Help!
posted by DMouse007 @ 9/02/2004 09:38:00 PM
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