On Pet Ownership

These are just 2 of our 5 animals. While most blogs on pet ownership might be about the joys of playing with these precious creatures, this one won't be. I am certainly a blessed pet-owner; don't get me wrong. Wormwood, the kitten, provides endless entertainment. Sierra and Brinkley have grown up to be loving dog-companions. Chloe and Allie, our first animals, continue to be an important part of the furry family. 

However, lately the hairy children in our household have been quite a handful. Chloe has been quarantined and put on cat-paxil for an anxiety disorder that causes her to ruin anything that's fabric.  And today Worm had to go to the vet to be neutered, which meant no food or water after 7 PM last night.  THAT meant that at 4 AM he decided to let me know how he felt about what was apparently cruel and unusual punishment by biting me in the ear, bringing me out of REM and into a panic-stricken state of semi-alertness.  "Mrow?"  he asked.  I told him to go away and put my face under the pillow.  So he burrowed under the covers and bit me in the chin.  "Mrow!"  I get it but there's nothing I can do. I shove him off of the bed.  He sneaks under the bedclothes and nips me in the big toe.  "Mrrrrrrow," he adds, as if perhaps I am dense.  I try to put him outside, but he's a young tomcat, and it is as if I have channeled his voice into a bullhorn.  "Mrow mrow mrrrrroooowwwwwwww," he protests, upping his volume so he can be heard from inside my bedroom.  I let him back in. 

Just as I am about to fall back to sleep, the yellow cat, Allie, lets me know that, while she hates Worm, the two have formed a union.  She entwines herself in the wooden blinds next to my face and starts batting the blind-pull against the wall.  It's now 4:30 AM.  THWACK. THWACK. THWACK THWACK THWACK.  I shoo her.  I'm almost asleep when Worm bites me on the ear again, and Allie THWACKS the blind-pull at the same time.  They are certain I am an idiot.  And I must be, because I try to spray Allie with lavender linen spray, only in the dark I have turned the nozzle towards my own eye.  I give the pump a good hard push and cover my face with the stuff, getting it in my mouth and eyelashes, which causes me to sputter and the cat to fall out of the blinds, soundly knocking over my eyeglasses and a bedside lamp.  Andrew groans.

This cycle repeats itself for 2 hours until my alarm (needlessly) sounds. As I finally get Allie off of my head (where she is attempting to sit to draw attention to her lack of food and water) and Worm in the pet taxi, I turn around to find Chloe-the-quarantined-cat has escaped from the sun porch and is now standing in the living room, ready to demolish our new living room furniture we added because she ruined the old.  

I sigh and realize it is going to be a very, very long day.