The Arrival of D-Day...

As I start this posting it is just coming up to 9am on Sunday morning. I have been out of bed for about an hour.

But what time did you wake up? I can hear you all asking.

Why, I woke up at 9:30am...

... Yesterday morning.

Yesterday afternoon saw the arrival of Tartine and Couscous, two very adorable Persians who had come away from the groomers looking like little mini lions. Pretty adorable.

To make a long story short. Hugh loves them. I think eventually it will be to the death, but at the moment he can't seem to get enough of them - the little Tartine especially, who is about half the size of Hugh.

And so throughout the evening and as the night wore on, the "playing" got more intense. It went a little something like this:

1) Hugh meows, signaling his eminent pounce. Sometimes one meow, sometimes several, but always loud.

2) Now forewarned of the attack, Tartine turns and lets out a screech loud enough to wake the dead... which is comforting to know because another night of no sleep will surely cause such a calamity.

3) Hugh, quite nonplussed about this howl, goes in for the pounce anyway.

4) Tartine, with yet another screech, this time louder by ten-fold, hits back with a force that only a tiny little "fur shaved in the style of a lion" kitty can muster when faced with a very insistent foe.

5) Hugh jumps back, startled at the ferocity of the defence. He responds with a little chirp as if to say "Ok, you got me. Totally didn't see that coming."

6) Feeling that the little exchange is over, Tartine turns away to go about his business of survival.

7) Repeat steps 1 through 6 over and over and over again for 12 solid hours.

In the end (middle of the night) I broke down and put the two visitors in my hallway/closet/bathroom, along with all their necessities. I wanted them to be able to do their feline duties undisturbed by Hugh. They seemed OK, but not impressed with their tight quarters I am sure. But what of Hugh?

About the only thing putting the cats away so that he could not get to them solved was that I was able to skip through steps 2 through 6 and just had to contend with #1. Over and over and over and over and over.

Putting him outside seemed like a lovely idea, until I did that and in 2.5 seconds proceeded to peepee all over the one chair that I have out on the patio. Ew. So in he came and howled and howled and howled until I could no longer take laying in bed with earplugs in my ears that did crap all. 29 decibels is apparently about as loud as as octogenarian shuffling their slippers as they walk down the hall in the retirement home. And not two cats duking it out right under my bed and howling at the top of their lungs. Just an FYI...

If I don't post for a while, you can assume that one of three things has happened.

1) I have dropped dead from exhaustion,

2) I am on the run from the animal welfare authorities, who do not look kindly at people who agree to look after co-workers pets and then turn around and sell them to the Carnival,

3) These cats seemed destined to consume the better part of my life for the next month. I shall spare you the gory details of daily life in the crazy house.


1 comment:

mollyblogger said...

Oh man...

Oh man...

Oh man.

Good luck Bea!