Having a kitty in the house has increased the amount of times I wake up yelling, “you fucker!” by 340598340598340985%.
My mornings used to be relatively peaceful and slow moving. All my kids are out of the intense “get up and gogogogogogogo!!!!” ages of 0-6. They are independent in the kitchen, meaning, they can scrounge together basic meals for themselves without images of a severed finger or burned limb popping up in my mind. They love sleeping in and I love sleeping in, so we all sleep in whenever possible. Finally, I thought to myself, finally I’ve reached the golden age of mornings with my kids!
And then we got a kitty.
I’m not a cat person, so ever having one was never on my “To Do” list of possibilities. But then we were traveling through Utah when our beloved shih tzu was hit by a car and died. Not knowing what to do in that situation, I made a bunch of frantic calls to pet businesses in the area to see how they would handle a sudden tragic death and the resulting dog body that I needed to take care of. A wonderful woman who runs a dog kennel in the mountains came to my rescue and put Frito Bandito in her pet cemetery. While there, my youngest daughter found a little kitten. The wonderful woman told us that the kitten’s entire family had been attacked and killed by raccoons or something. As if we weren’t crying enough.
So I didn’t make my daughter put her down, we didn’t leave her in Utah, and that wasn’t the end of the story. We brought her home with us, which in this case meant smuggling her into Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas for a previously planned weekend there first.
You’d think that such a cute little thing would be so grateful that we saved her poor little life by rescuing her, that she would cuddle and love and purr and snuggle with us forever.
Instead, she’s turned out to be quite a fucker.
At first we named her “Kit Kat”. That was before we knew her personality. We changed it to “Honey Badger” when we realized she doesn’t give a shit. She just wants what she wants. I guess cats are known for this kind of attitude…but never having a cat and until very recently owning a dog, this has been quite a shock.
She has completely changed my mornings.
First, she stalks me all night. While I’m sleeping in bed. You can imagine, there’s not much to “stalk” until my hand drops to the side of the bed, or my arm drapes itself outside of under the covers. Honey Badger is quiet and still until those things happen, and then springs into action the second she sees bare skin. Claws, teeth, tongue…I feel it all. But her very very favorite thing to do is sit on the bed from 4-7 am and wait to pounce on one of the most sensitive areas of the human body…the foot/toes. I give you exhibit A…the 4 stages of toe stalking:
observe, get into position, focus, pounce like a motherfucker. Do this over and over and over again until about 7:30 am, at which point stop, realize how tiring it is being such a bitch kitty, and go to sleep on top of the person you’ve been stalking all night. Position yourself in ways that makes it impossible for her to get up to pee.
Make loud purring noises that perfectly balance the teeth grinding of the littlest human sleeping next you you.
Smile at how clever you are.
It would seem that my good morning decreases in direct proportion to Honey Badger’s enjoyment of them.
It would seem that my golden age of easy breazy mornings is now over.