Feline Frenzy

Last night, a nasty noise interrupted my viewing of Manana es para Siempre, my Spanish soap opera. I looked up from my comfortable couch position to see Lorenzo, our crappy (and seemingly bulimic) cat gagging over the carpet. I jumped up (after pausing my show, of course) and ran at him, instructing him to get to the kitchen before expelling the contents of his stomach. Apparently he did not agree with me that vomiting on wood floor instead of carpet was more appealing, so he took off up the stairs toward the bedrooms, pausing to leave a little deposit at the top, like a trap. I lunged at him (I'm a little slower than I'd like) and once again he took off. This time, he jumped onto my bed and threw up on my white sheets. Now, this may come as a bit of surprise to some, but I occasionally have a bit of a swearing problem when put in highly annoying situations, such as this one. My shouts had to be slightly muted since Eli was asleep in the next room, but I let Mark know that this bastard cat (I know, he can't help the fact that he is a bastard, it is the lot of many stray cats) had puked all over the place and that I was extremely displeased. Mark very generously cleaned up the puke piles and we decided that it might not be a bad time to change the old sheets. There's nothing like changing your sheets at 11:00 at night.

It is my belief (though maybe it is false) that I have been largely immune to the hormonal curses that many pregnant women experience. I don't cry when something displeases me and I am not sending my husband on late night ice cream runs. I do, however, seem to have a heightened sense of irritation toward the two loafing felines that reside in our house. There are few days when I am not cursing their names for some reason or other. I feel bad about it, but only until one of them sits near my head and starts licking him/herself. At that point, all guilty feelings go out the window and I snap. I complain because Linda is so fat and won't stop trying to eat everyone's food. Then Lorenzo is hyper-needy and bullies Linda. In the middle of the night, they can be heard wrestling and breaking things in the house. After they finish their match, they both find it necessary to position themselves as near as possible to my body. Lorenzo is by my head and Linda by my feet or trying to stick her face in my crack. I don't know why they don't try to sleep near Mark, probably because I am like a giant down pillow for them, squishy and warm. He doesn't appreciate when I launch one of the cats at him in the night and they land claws first on his face.

I should be more guarded in my displeasure with the two cats. Eli has taken to emotionally abusing them (i.e. Linda you are a fatso!) and often tries to hit them with towels or kick them. This is not the lesson I want to pass on to him. It is especially unusual since the kid won't even let me step on an ant that wanders into our house.

This is not my first blog about these stinking animals. You might ask yourself why we still own them. But in reality, I could never get rid of them. I actually love them, but don't like them. I'm hoping this annoyance will go down as my hormones stabilize (what else can I blame it on??). If not, there might be a blog in the future looking for a home for a short, fat cat and a skinny cat with a vomiting problem. Stay tuned.