As I previously stated, Chloe is my cat …
… and a terrible instigator of trouble, especially at night.
When it is cold, she crawls under the blankets and curls up with me to keep warm.
But when she wants attention, she will stop at nothing to get it….
All of a sudden, I feel her digging at the blanket, and I have to move a little to keep from feeling those claws connecting with my skin. Then comes ticklish whiskers and a tiny cold nose into my face. “Meow.”
I lay still, waiting.
More blanket digging and meowing. Then stillness for a couple seconds.
Then she’s off. Down onto the floor to run through the house and back up onto the bed, feeling like an elephant when she runs across me.
I still don’t move.
The mattress shifts as she jumps from the bed to the dresser. I watch through half closed lids as she sits and watches for a reaction.
I sit up and yell at her to get down. She doesn’t move.
I throw the blankets back and move like I am going to go after her. She hesitates another split-second, then jumps down and takes off through the house, as if expecting me to chase her.
I lay back down and here she comes back again to start the process all over.
Scratch … dig … meow … jump to the dresser.
I again lay still, watching as she waits for me to react. I don’t.
One tiny foot comes out and … thud…a perfume bottle ends up on the floor. I lay and watch.
Thud … another perfume bottle. I wince, praying that they don’t break all over the floor.
You can almost see the wheels turning in that tiny little Yoda-head.
She sits for a second, watching me, then shoves another bottle onto the floor.
After four or five bottles have landed on the floor, she decides she needs a new strategy and jumps down onto me with a large thud that nearly knocks the breath out of me.
She hops across the bed, and onto the bedside table. She waits. Nothing. Then she turns and begins batting at a picture hanging on the wall.
This is where I have to draw the line.
The picture is one that came from my husband’s grandmother.
I jump out of bed and yell. She runs.
Only to come back and start all over again.
Is it any wonder I don’t get enough sleep?
© Drusilla Mott and https://drusillamott.wordpress.com, 2012