My girlfriend has cats

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
The epic struggle of a man and a cat.

Submitted: October 20, 2012

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Submitted: October 20, 2012

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It is 4:30 in the morning. I am asleep, which is good, because I like sleep. I find it soothing and restful. At approximately 4:30 every morning, and I mean every single morning, a lion-shaped shadow of a cat explodes into the lamp that holds down my bedside table. I know the cat missile is coming, but every morning it sends my heart into a flutter as I try to grab a handle on reality. At this moment of confusion, while I struggle to determine who I am and where I am, I don’t blame the cannonball of a cat. I blame his brother Darcy. The cannonball cat is just the byproduct of the master of the house, Darcy, deciding him and his claws are ready for breakfast. The result is a Darcy-driven cannonball destabilizing my light-source. It isn’t a big lamp, and they are big cats. Maine Coons to be exact. So I feel bad for my lamp sometimes.

Luckily, there is a solution. I madly chase Darcy out of our room while muttering obscenities. Unfortunately it is dark at 4:30 in the morning, so I chase shadows. Often-times, I shut the door victoriously only to find Darcy and Lennie the cannonball standing behind me reeeeowing and chirping. Talk about feeling like a fool, what did I just chase out of the room? The hunt then begins anew as I try to herd a cat, often Darcy, out of the room. Once successful, I head back to bed. I have bought myself a few minutes of blissful sleep.

It is important to note here, that Darcy is in fact a cat. And despite being locked out of the room, he still has a full cat-toolbox of ways to annoy the hell out of everyone in the house. Darcy counters my lockout with the classic incessant door-pawing move. Luckily, we have hollow doors, so the sound really echoes throughout the house. Eventually, about 30 minutes later, I reach a boiling point. Unfortunately I like my girlfriend, so I can’t throw her cat out the window. I do have a trick up my sleeve though. I again hop out of bed and am greeted by a long reeeeow from Lennie the cannonball. He has decided that since I am up he is ready for food and makes a beeline for the door. After stumbling after Lennie, through the shadows to the vibrating hollow door, I quickly open the door and pull off the cat switch-a-roo. Darcy bounds into the room, and Lennie scampers into the shadows of the kitchen. I have again gained myself several minutes of sleep.

You may have identified the problem here. Now Darcy is in our room again. He doesn’t have his cannonball to fire at my lamp though, so his options are slightly more limited. But Darcy is smart. He saw the success of the door-paw and now enacts the reverse door paw. He paws the door from within! At this point, I have been bested. My attempts at not being domesticated by a cat have failed. I begrudgingly arise and subsequently fall over a cat bowl into the closet. Ironic since I have been avoiding feeding them for two hours. Once I have gathered my wits and some of the clothes in the closet, I stumble into the kitchen where I find Lennie standing on the counter reeeeowing at me again. The cat has a set of lungs that could wake the dead. It is like he is throwing it in my face that I am no longer in charge here. Jerk Cats. A few kibble finally settles them down and they each go into their respective room to eat breakfast and take a follow-up cat nap.

Finally, I get some peaceful sleep.

In the morning my girlfriend asking me how the cats were last night.

Grumble.


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