So, apparently I’ve not put anything here in an age. I figure I may as well break this silence with a post about my ridiculous cat.
See, she’s ludicrously attached to my husband. Her routine now is to stay out all night, then come home when he does (he works a night shift, and generally gets back home at around 8:30 am), have breakfast then trot upstairs to bed with him. She’ll stay there all day until he gets up at around 5 pm (if she thinks he needs to get up before he’s ready she’ll actually get under his covers and kinda knead him until he wakes up), have dinner then go out for an hour or so.
This has been her routine for a good few months now, but just over the last couple of weeks she’s added an extra step to it, which is funny, cute and bizarre all at once. After she’s had her evening trundle around the neighbourhood (during which she’s most likely checking for any rabbits that managed to escape her great purge earlier this year) she’ll come back and just yowl at my husband.
At first he’d go through the check list of all the things that might be upsetting her. Does she want to go back out? Nope. Does she want more food? Nah. Is she upset because the sheep, of whom she has a mortal dread, are in the field (her field) behind our house? No, and please don’t mention those woolly devils. Is it raining (she seems to hold the firm belief that we can stop this, but just choose not to to spite her)? Nuh uh.
Once he’d exhausted all these options he’d just do nothing and see what she did next. She’d go upstairs, to either our bed or her little cat bed on our landing, and look at him expectantly. The yowling would continue until he’d picked her up, put her on our bed or in her own bed, and fussed her until she decided to go to sleep. Now he doesn’t even bother with the rigmarole of finding out what she wants and just takes her straight upstairs.
So, as it turns out, what she wants is for him to essentially tuck her in, because she is in almost all regards (apart from the rabbit genocide) a giant fucking baby.
