Last night my 3 legged fur ball was particularly bratty. Usually he has a funny 5 (15?) minutes about 9-9:30 when he’ll charge around the house up the walls, along the back of the sofa/chair/bed, onto the kitchen top knocking off whatever we’re left on there (or eating it if it even hints at being edible)
he’ll take a running slide under the rug before using anything and everything that he can get his claws into as a scratching post, and then we’ll have our nightly ‘fight’ where he latches onto my arm, biting and clawing and generally trying to disembowel something.
he’s so cute…
after that he’s relatively sane and either decides to go out on the town for the rest of the night or curl up and gradually squirm and fidget his way across the entire bed until about 4:30am ish, when its breakfast time and I get my head chewed to remind me that he’s a poor starving little waif who’s wasting away by the second.
But not last night. 2am apparently is a great time to use the bed as a trampoline, shred the bed head, do circuits of the bedroom, scrabbling your claws as much as possible on every surface before charging along the edge of the bed and stabbing your owner in the eye with your nose.
it actually hurt!
Right! Thats it, you brat.
So thoroughly wide awake by now and not happy about being head butted in the eye, I scooped up the wriggly, teeth infested slasher monster under one arm and dumped him in the naughty corner (the corridor) and shut the door in his blatantly unrepentant face.
ha, pussy cat.
no amount of scrabbling and howling was going to make me open the door.
ahh, bedroom door.
Bedroom doors are great.
They’re solid, shut-able and psychotic-3-legged-fur-ball proof.
Everyone should have a bedroom door.
I’m very grateful for mine and managed to get another 4 hours sleep to boot! 🙂
There will be no feline frenzies tonight, and the bedroom door will be at its brat deterring best….
its legs day tomorrow