Neo & Nikita
Since Nikita's last projectile pukey episode several weeks ago, the kids have been on a new feeding plan.
No longer do we leave kitty kibble out for grazing - cats aren't grazers by nature, though if you try to tell Neo (aka Medicine Ball) that, he'll slap your big human face.
They get two hearty meals a day - a bit of kibble and some very delicious-smelling ground up fish in a can. Mmm mmm mmm mmm MMM!
While this new routine is supposedly much healthier for them (they haven't yet told me if they feel more cat-like and better nourished), it's created another new routine.
Every morning the bed is covered in cats, starting around 6:30am. They assemble and parade all over everything until we get up, their way of letting us know it's TIME FOR BREAKFAST, BITCHES. NOW.
They've always been helpful in waking us up early in the morning, but now they do it with so much more purpose. You have to admire their tenacity. They will wear you down until you put some damn food in their damn bowls.
In the afternoon, as it gets closer to 3pm, they begin to follow me wherever I go, maybe just in case I have their food in my pocket - they'll be right there in case I decide to feed them on the couch, or in the bathroom, or on top of the clean laundry.
And as the clock approaches 5pm, the hour we decided best for their dinnertime, they collect around me like a tiny gang of cat thugs, staring at me and maneuvering closer and closer to me as time ticks down to the magical hour.
If I'm working on my laptop, usually standing up at the pub table in the bar, one will sit on the chair behind me, one will sit directly behind the laptop, and the third will sit on the bar next to the chair - each no more than 1 foot away from me.
If I do not acknowledge their presence, especially the one directly behind me on the chair, he/she will proceed to "climb" up my back and rest forepaws there until I turn around.
There are times I've given into them way earlier than 5pm, because they all have very sharp teeth and dozens of claws between them.
If they manage to trip me in just the right spot, I'm done for. And then David comes home late from work and finds them snacking on my face.
Ninja (El Retardo, Chimpee the Ass Monkey, Big Walking Rug, and a number of other nicknames)
1 comment:
Welcome to my world...our little boogers start bugging me the second the sun comes up.
Of course, my unemployment (and subsequent sleeping in) has thrown them for a loop since I am no longer rising before dawn to feed them...
What ever will they do? How will they survive?
Side note: the word boogers doesn't come up automatically in blogger's dictionary. It was smart enough to provide boozers as an alternative. I thought you'd appreciate that.
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