Life is Weird

Endless Insanity

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Pickin’ Bits & a Boob Scratch.

Some people think that staying in on a Friday night is a sin. I remember the days when I thought the exact same thing, but times have changed for me. I enjoy coming home Friday after work. I have put in my week at work and can hardly wait to put on my slobby slob-out clothes, grab a bag of chips, a big glass of coke zero and improve my life via Pinterest. It works for me. Plus – I get to spend some quality time with my gorgy Zozo dog and her baby cat Charlie.

babycat

Now – we all know that I spoil the Zoey dog – to say the least. Do I need to remind anyone that I got the kitten for Zo – to keep her company during the day? No. So would it really be a surprise to find out that I spent part of my Friday night Pickin’ Bits for her. You see – I thought I was being quite smart, quite clever when I bought the delish looking dog food from the liquidation world. It had healthy little bits of dried beans and carrots in it. She eats beans and carrots off of my plate – so I thought she would like some in her own food. Wrong. Apparently the Zo has a very refined palate when it comes to her beans and carrots. That’s right – she does not approve of eating either one in the dried crunchy state. So I watched her as she would take a mouthful of the dried food over to the carpet , drop it all on the carpet, and then eat everything but the dried beans and carrots. She left those on the carpet for me to pick up. Ya – I don’t really want to be picking up these stupid bits every single day. But I am like a super genius and decide to dump out the whole bag on the counter – pick out the bean and carrot bits and chuck them in the garbage. Really – come on. This is Ridiculous – but I started so I actually finished. It took almost an hour.

After completing this tedious task I decided to reward myself with a nice hot bath. I love my baths. Zo always sits by the tub while I soak. She waits for me to get out and then dries my toes. I guess Zo’s new kitten Charlie wanted to become part of our bathing ritual. I saw her perched on the toilet seat – just watching. Okay – I am not stupid – I don’t trust this cat for nothin’. She is totally wild, and completely insane. I look at her and decide I was safe – I know she doesn’t like water – I know this for sure. How? Because when it was +35 out I thought she might like a little dip in Zozo’s pool. Ha! – Not so much. Don’t go getting all up in arms with me either. I was not being cruel – I didn’t just chuck her in. I had her on a leash and I lowered her in carefully and I was holding on tight. Lets just say I won’t do that again. And there is also the fact that I can now hold up a spray bottle of water and she halts in her tracks. This is my only defence against this 2 lbs. weapon of mass destruction. When I find her hanging on my sheers – a little spray of water – and she’s gone. The curtains are all snagged to shit now anyways – but that’s besides the point. There are times where I catch Charlie planning her next random attack on my home d├ęcor – and when I do – I call her name – show her my weapon – and she changes her little evil mind, for that moment in time anyways.

Okay – Okay – way off track again – I know.

So – I am relaxing in the tub – my knees up, my head on the inflatable pillow. I could sleep in that steamy hot water , I really could. My false sense of security has taken over any common sense. The tiny cute kitten,who I am now quite sure is a demented flying squirrel=cat, is planning her next attack.

My Moment of Zen is over in a quick second. Charlie – being the Cirque de Sol acrobat that she is has obviously scoped out my dry knees sticking up and has leaped towards them . She thinks she will be safe from the water but does not realize she has just scared the bejesus out of me. So I jolt – she drops. Before she gets “wet” she has somehow landed on my now upright chest. As I sit up she sinks her little razor claws into my boob. She is hanging from me like a cheap necklace. Not cute. This kitten has clawed the crap out of me , but I never thought I would get a boob scratch from her. I really should have known better. After removing the kitten from my body I know I have lost my chance for that relaxing bath moment.

As I reflect on my Friday night I know that I could be doing other things. If I really wanted I could go party it up , or go for dinner, go to a movie. Maybe I should change things up a bit – go out on Friday nights. Stop = I will not give in to the maniacal mayhem of this baby feline. I will be the boss of her. She will not dictate my life – or my Friday nights. Right?

Right?

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