My musing this lovely Sunday morning will rather shock some of you who are accustomed to my softer, gentler side.
I loved the movie We Bought a Zoo and for anyone who has not checked it out, please do. You will be pleasantly surprised. My conundrum is that I LIVE in a zoo. And, it is not fun. Yesterday, Zoe and I worked together at the store. She left at 5pm and came home to find Millie (our 13 year old Shepard) in the hot tub. Needless to say, this became a crisis as Zoe did not know what to do and was afraid that Millie might bite her. With calm prompting, she was able to get Millie out and dried off with a lot of towels.
Not so bad, right? It can happen. Millie was scared. Zoe was scared, but we all survived. On reflection, however, I think the energy of the incident jazzed up our two cats -- Bread and Butter. Butter, who by the way, looks exactly like her namesake -- 25 pounds of lard ass. Bread resembles a Baguette. Let me remind anyone reading this post that these cats are my children's. They HAD to have a cat. And they do NOTHING to take care of them.
Now, as a preface to this morning's nightmare -- let me describe to you what these two lovely animals do all day -- ruin our home. They scratch up the fabric on all our furniture, delight on laying on every piece of furniture including our kitchen table leaving a blanket of hair, find their way into our closet to hunker down for a cozy nap, but not before rubbing up against every piece of clothing I own leaving a thick coat of hair, and just for fun and to make my day, they lovingly leave dead mice or squirrel parts on the walkway.
This is their daily itinerary. And, I have not even began to describe their witching hour, which begins at 5am.
This is where I have seriously considered making "cat stew". This morning was the worst to date. We have a system, Andy and I. I get up first and let Butter out. We wait for about 10 minutes to hear the scratching at the door to be let in. Andy gets up for this one. Then, if we are lucky, Bread will jump up on the bed and lay between my legs, and we get another hour of dreamland with no disturbance.
Not this morning my friends.
We were up 7 times between 5am and 6:30am with those damn cats. In and out, meow, scratch at the doors, play with the paper in the corner, scratch at the door, meow. We fed them, to no avail. Scratch, meow "Let me out" Scratch, meow, "Let me in." On and on it went. Instead of "50 Ways to Leave your Lover" Andy and I whispered quietly the 50 ways to kill them. Hauling their asses to a Chinese restaurant was definitely on the top ten list.
If anyone is interested in two cats, please let me know. Otherwise, please come over this evening for a warm bowl of "cat stew".