Good morning to all my non-hung over miscreants
Wait, is there any such thing? A debate for another day. Today is yet another cat tale – both amusing and proof I need to get out more. In truth my new job has a strict communication policy, so several of the events I see and would love to share would come with a likely pink slip. Of course this policy only applies as long as I work here, so should the day come that my contract is not renewed, you will see a burst of blog posts.
But that’s the future, and in order to see that far forward, I would have to be able to get my head off my desk.
Yes I am exhausted, and no I am not hung over, it’s more a cat hang over. You see I have 2 furry beasts, one is almost a year old, she is KC. KC is everything you would expect a cat to be, calm, cool, and in control. She is the ruler of the house, and I am but the humble being that she allows to feed her and change her litter box.
Ivan,(my 4 month orange tabby) is… unique. Okay if I am going to be perfectly honest, he should be riding the short litter box. He is as cute as anything, but not exactly a rocket scientist. His excess spunk and the fact I have had to rescue him several times from the same predicament only re-enforce this belief.
A couple of weeks ago, he started to sleep under the blankets with me. It was odd, I have never had a cat do that before but it was not a problem either, he would come running in with great glee and jump on the bed, running up my leg and settling in by my stomach. Ms. KC would sometimes come in as well, but not under the blankets. She has far too much pride to lower herself to sleeping with sasquatches such as myself.
Last night I discovered the truth. Ivan came bounding in – curling up to his spot and started to purr. It was strange his feet and stomach were wet, strange enough I woke up. I believed the purring to be for me until KC came in to the room dripping wet. From what I can gather, Ivan was lying in wait until KC went to get something to drink. And as I have seen him do in the past, he dove on KC’s head. This time however, the dive resulted in his dunking KC’s head into the water dish, and then he ran to my room and used me as a safe refuge for the night.
Too bad Ivan doesn’t understand that women never forget. I am sure one day this week I will come one and KC will be wearing a new orange scarf.