I didn’t sleep last night. This was for a number of reasons, but it was mainly because my cat is an asshole. (It was also because the motion-sensitive light below my window kept strobing on and off, but this was because of my neighbour’s cat, so…still…cat.)
So, since I’m having trouble with making the words today, I think I’ll make someone else the star of the show today, since she clearly wanted to be the centre of attention ALL NIGHT LONG.
Her name is Balloons. (It was actually supposed to be “Petunia”, but it devolved into “Tuney”, then “Tuney-Balloony” and I think you see where I’m going with this.)
Balloons is 15 years old. She has never been sick a day in her life and has the energy of a 6-month-old kitten. I think I need to start feeding her crap food.
Let’s find out what makes her tick.
DREA: So, Balloons, you had a lot of energy last night. What was that about?
BALLOONS: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
DREA: Well, there was that time you headbutted my face 50 times in a row. It kind of hurt.
BALLOONS: You headbutted ME.
DREA: I didn’t lick you on the nose.
BALLOONS: I was tasting you so I can plan the condiments for when you die alone and I eat your face.
DREA: How about at 3 am when I heard a weird noise and looked up to see you climbing the mirror over the dresser, where – to my knowledge – you’ve never been before?
BALLOONS: Right. I’ve never been up there before.
DREA: No, really, what were you doing?
BALLOONS: I do NOT have a secret compartment behind the mirror filled with state-of-the-art satellite communication equipment. I just wanted to see if I’m still pretty.
DREA: And you know, there’s a reason that toys that jingle are banned in the bedroom. There is a toy basket filled with sleep-approved toys beside the chair. Where did you even get that little ball with the bell inside?
DREA: So that’s what those charges on my credit card were…
BALLOONS: Right. Just innocent little cat toys.
DREA: You know, the reason we can afford cat toys is because I work. One thing you may not be aware of is that working is a lot easier if a person is well-rested. And it’s not so easy to stay asleep with you hooking your paw around my wrist to lift my hand onto your head when you want pats.
BALLOONS: I have no idea what you’re talking about. Sometimes you pat me in your sleep. I think you dream about me. Besides, maybe I had a busy night and required therapeutic massage.
DREA: I also noticed you vocalizing rather enthusiastically quite early this morning and thought maybe you were being like those cats we see on TV who wake their people when there’s a fire, but it turned out you were just excited about a poo. I wonder if there’s a quieter way you could use the litter box at night?
BALLOONS: YOU DO NOT STIFLE THE SINGING OF THE POO SONG!
DREA: Okay, okay! Settle down! Can you explain why you were also crying to your dish, which was still half-full?
BALLOONS: I MUST GO TO SLEEEEEEEP NOW – I WAS UP ALL NIGHT!