Man, some days I wish I could be a housecat.
Sleeping all the time. When I’m not sleeping, I’m eating, drinking, or playing. I have people that love me. I have food provided. I have sand to poop in.
Any surface is a bed. Any surface. I can get comfortable in the most uncomfortable of positions. My house is my domain, even when I’m the smallest person there.
Any thing is a toy. Any thing. A ball. A bell. A pen. A ball of my own fur. The only limits to my play are the limits to my imagination … which has no limits.
I am loved so much. I get petted and scratched and snuggled. My every need provided, my every want met.
Some days I wish I could be a housecat.
Okay, so it’s 3:30 in the morning. My cat has already woken me up an hour ago to give him his morning feeding (and just because he believes I need to be woken up at 2:00-3:00 in the morning). He has also decided that it’s play time, which is weird for him since he usually waits until my husband wakes up for that.
He brought me a crumpled up receipt about 30 minutes ago. This means, in Rory speak, that he wants to play fetch with it. At 3:00 in the morning. When my husband is still asleep.
In his little mind, now is the perfect time to play. Momma’s up, so it’s playtime. I know he’ll eventually give up and go off to sleep somewhere else in the apartment, but it’s still annoying. I’m trying to goof off on the Internet instead of working on cosplay stuff like I could be doing. Silly kitty, doesn’t he know?
Then again, if I do get out of bed and go to the craft room, he’ll definitely think it’s playtime. All bets are off if I’m in there. It’s on the opposite side of the apartment, so not as much risk of waking up my husband while playing.
Perhaps that’s what he wants–for me to go to the other room.
Who knows. It’s cat logic, after all.
Rory, Rory, Rory. What am I going to do with you?
I’ve tried feeding him later at night so he’s not as hungry in the morning. I’ve tried closing him out of the bedroom at night. I’ve tried ignoring him. I’ve tried holding him down so he can’t knead on my throat.
But the cat just keeps coming back.
Rory is too smart for my own good. When we first got him, I was having insomnia. I’d wake up between 0130 and 0200 every morning and be unable to go back to sleep. Rory decided that this meant I was supposed to be up at this time, and I have not had an uninterrupted night of sleep since.
I tried untraining him, but that hasn’t worked. He has his mind set that I am awake at a certain time, and that’s that. Granted, he has started waking me up a tad later–like around 0215-0300–but the cat just keeps coming back.
Some mornings, like today, I can tell he just wants food. Still, I wait at least an hour until I feed him so he (hopefully) doesn’t get an immediate association between me waking up and him eating.
Some mornings, he just wants me up. I’ll try to go back to sleep only to have him come back an hour later and start in again. He doesn’t necessarily want anything in particular. In fact, sometimes he immediately goes off to the other room to go back to sleep himself. It’s like once I’m awake all is right with the world and he can rest easy knowing he did his job.
I know I should shut up and accept my fate, but there’s got to be a better way.
I’ll keep trying new things.
But the cat will still come back.
It’s getting to that time of year: the cold has arrived, and my cat has noticed.
We keep the apartment warm enough, but as I’m sure you know sometimes that doesn’t cut it. The cold just seeps in. Thankfully, my cat and I have developed a somewhat symbiotic relationship, in which he warms himself by my feet and my feet are warmed by him.
Sometimes, however, this cuddling becomes inconvenient. Last night, he decided to sleep between my feet, which would have been fine had I not needed to get up during the night. As with most sleeping animals that get in your way, he would not move when I came back to bed and I was stuck having to curl up in a ball to fit. (Luckily, I am able to sleep in a near-fetal position.)
I kind of wish he hadn’t gone off to stalk some imaginary creature. My feet are a little cold right now.
Some mornings I have to get up early for work.
And some mornings, there’s Rory.
My cat does not seem to understand the concept of allowing me to sleep past 2:30 or 3:00 a.m. Every morning, he at least attempts to get me to wake up around that time, though sometimes I can fend him off and get back to sleep for another hour or two.
Rory is a little too smart for my own good. He trained himself to play fetch…and he trained himself to wake me up early in the morning.
It’s slowly getting better. This morning, after his failed 2:30 a.m. attempt, he let me get back to sleep until 4:30. Which, on a day when I don’t have to get up until 5:30 or 6:00 a.m., is still a bit early, but it’s an improvement.
My muse had been silent for a while, but I think I may have an idea for another novel. It’s kind of contrived and probably has been done before, but I’m hoping I can execute it well and have a good story. This time, I’m going to try to put more thought into the plot and not pants it quite so much. The last couple of times I tried pantsing, the results fell rather flat. If the plot does come along, I’ll have something more to do in the mornings other than just mess around on Facebook and Twitter 😉