Early this morning, around 5:00, I was jerked from slumber by a high-pitched siren-y sound. Zack and I both half sat up and looked around, totally confused, because the wailing was nothing we could identify but definitely coming from our living room.
“Whaaat is THAT?”
“I think it’s the….cat?”
I figured hey, since I am awake and I kind of have to pee I might as well make sure one of the cats isn’t crying a death knell. We both got up to check things out because by this time it sounded like the pets had invited some friends over and they were all stumbling around after too many beers and it was only a matter of time before they started singing Red Hot Chili Peppers’ “Under the Bridge” at top volume while the yowling carried right on. I yanked open our bedroom door and everything stopped.
“What the fuck is going on out here?” I growled.
Three pairs of eyes stared up at me, everyone completely calm and not bleeding or otherwise facing mortal peril. Which of course meant that they were crashing around just to spite me.
Ella circled my ankles and meowed indignantly, for clearly I was heading toward the bathroom and away from the cat food bin. Arlo stood around looking awkward near his food dish and Sappho lounged, unconcerned, in the middle of the living room floor.
After a few more curses and a threat of bodily harm should the noise continue, I went back to bed grumbling about the ungrateful little miscreants and put a pillow over my head. Which did not block out the sound of Arlo’s nails click-click-clicking on the hardwood floor as he proceeded to pace for the remaining hour I had to sleep. When my alarm went off I found that someone (cough, Sappho) had barfed on one of the decorative pillows on my couch.
I gave serious consideration to punting them one by one off the balcony.
It’s a good thing they’re cute. It’s really the only thing that saved them. Well, that and the promise of a Starbucks run before work.
I am pretty sure Starbucks could fix all the world’s problems if only we’d give it a chance.