Spark In Darkness

For example, Old Mog likes to be petted – she shows this by laying next to you and staring at you. When you stroke her she melts into a puddle of contentment and you occasionally stop so she raises her head in outrage and you can confirm she’s not actually dead and you’re not actually petting a corpse. Because that would be creepy.

Now Sibling Kitty screams and begs for attention until you finally pet her at which point she has a near seizure of joy because ZOMG HUMAN TOUCHED HER AND IT’S AWESOME! All four limbs flailing as she twists around and probably does herself an injury. The worst part is she kneads with all four claws – the air, the sofa, cushions, fleshy bits of human – just flexing away little razor blades in every direction. She also demands attention because while the Old Mog will just puddle, Sibling Kitty will not only flail around with razors but every now and then will suddenly decide “KILL THE HUMAN!” and you need to pull your hand back quickly or be flensed to the bone. Doubtless this is to ensure human reflexes are kept at peak efficiency.

Old Mog is tolerating Sibling Kitty’s presence. She still hisses, but it’s more a “I would like to formally announce that your presence in this house is unwelcome and I disapprove most strongly” hiss, rather than a “I will kill you and wear your skin on weekends and high holidays” hiss.

However, she has developed a “you have betrayed all that is good and pure in the world, there is now a desolate wasteland where hope once resided and barren void where kindness once lay” glare every time she sees me or Beloved with Sibling Kitty. It’s a very eloquent glare.

Feeding time is… vexing. Both kitties will appear at exactly the same time and demand food. At which point both kitties are convinced that a) I have put the sublime ambrosia that the gods would kill for in the bowl of the other cat while simultaneously dumping goat excrement in their bowls; and b) that their bowl must be protected at all cost, under no account must the other cat come within a yard of their bowl or Death Must Follow.

This is more complicated by Old Mog needing medication for her super-scabby skin which now has to be hand given to her (oh dear gods cats and pills) because there's no guarantee who will eat the food

The most annoying habit of Sibling Kitty is her yowling. Now Old Mog yowls. Old Mog yowls a lot – but she’s adept at communicating what she wants with those yowls. If she yowls near her food bowl, she wants you to fill it (that doesn’t mean she’s hungry and she will, inevitably, walk away from said food. She just wants to test her human’s obedience). If she stands near a door and yowls she wants you to open it (again, not necessarily to go through it, she just wants it open). If she yowls near a chair she wants you to sit down and pet/comb her.

Sibling Kitty will sit in the middle of the floor and just yowl. She can keep it up for hours while you play a guessing game as to what this silly creature actually wants. I suspect she likes to hear her own voice.

On the good: SP #3 has not shceduled me to be on call this week (barring the kafluffle on Monday) except this coming Saturday and possibly Sunday – and he gave me advance notice for them

On the bad: If I’m not on call Sp#3 you should really NOT be calling me between the hours of 9:00pm and 3:00am. No, you should not. Because I’m not on call. And if I don’t answer my mobile, it’s because I am ignoring you. It’s not an invitation to use the landline – yes we do have a phone by the bed, no it doesn’t have it’s ringer turned off (except weekend m0rnings) because if someone rings us at 2:00am it’s usually because it’s a desperate, raging emergency and we’re fine to be woken in these conditions. And yes, we, because the phone by the side of the bed woke Beloved as well. Why wouldn’t it? Wait, don’t aswer that I’m already pissed enough

This? Was not an emergency. You’re lucky I picked up the phone before Beloved (and he tried, swearing copiously, but it’s at my side of the bed)

Also, if it were an emergency, it would be YOUR emergency, not mine. It can be my emergency when I’m paid as much as you, ‘kay thanks.

In related news – cat you are not helping matters. In the bedroom or OUT please. Constant scrabbling to come in and then scrabbling to go out is annoying. Of course we can leave the door ajar so you can get in or out -but you want it OPEN. So will PUSH it until it is large enough to fit a herd of hippopotamuses. Muses? Hippopotami? Whatever, hippos. Big ones.  And this is annoying, yes yes it is. Who can sleep with wide open doors?

Also, the hours between 1:00am and 5:00am are not the time for hugs, no furball, they are not. No face nuzzling, poking or whining while I’m sleeping – especially since waking up to find a fanged maw within an inch of my face is not a good thing. No no it isn’t. Also, enough of the nocturnal vomiting. Do you know how vexing it is to hear a cat being sick in a dark house and know you have to find it – but that there’s a lot of carpet to walk over between you and the lightswitch?

Beloved – should said furball nuzzle you for the huggings, you do not pick up furball and drop her on me. Especially not my head. She’s your cat too. Yes, even when we’re trying to sleep.

Also, Beloved, are you break dancing or fighting a legion of ninjas in your sleep? I’m trying to figure it out based on the sheets strangling me, the duvet turned by 90 degrees, the pillows scattered throughout the neighbourhood, let alone the bed and the fact if you don’t lie still for 5 minutes I am going to suffocate you while you sleep. How did you manage to get UNDER the bottom sheet? Couldn’t you snore or something? I could deal with snoring. It depresses me that there’s so much movement going on in our bed for so little purpose, yes yes it does.