My Asshole Cat. Part 2 - Into The Breach

"Staring Contests: If you get caught in a staring contest with your cat, do not look away. Looking away will signal to your cat that you are weak, and an attack is likely to follow. "

~from "How to tell if your cat is plotting to kill you.

Outdoor cat spent her first night indoors one rainy night last summer. Outdoor cat brought her fleabag self into our home and immediately began her skulking. She wandered around eyeing up the place like a dieter in a bakeshop. Lys eventually bundled her up and took outdoor kitty to her room to retire for the evening. We all took to our beds and turned out the lights. Moments after arriving at the coveted REM sleep, the night was perforated by the wailing banshee. It was a God-awful, unnatural shriek that was at once irritating and terrifying.

It took me a few seconds to get my bearings and locate the source of the hullabaloo. I turned on the light and there she was, in the middle of the kitchen, just looking around wailing. A cat person might say she was mewling or meowing but I am not a cat person; I am a person fixated on achieving 4-6 hours of REM sleep a night. This was going to be a problem. She was not in distress, she was not in heat, she was neither hungry nor thirsty. It was the equivalent, I felt, to waking up in the middle of the night to find someone singing at the top of their lungs in the middle of your kitchen and, as you turn on the light, they turn in your direction and smile as they begin the second chorus. I stared slack-jawed in stunned disbelief.

I opened the door sure that outdoor kitty was in need of some fresh air figuring this vocal exercise was her jailhouse rock. She ended with a big finish and came to stand beside me in front of the open door. She looked up at me, looked out the door, then looked back at me as if to say, "where you headed at this hour?" I closed the door and returned to bed. turned out the light and resumed my pursuit of restful sleep.

At precisely 5:45 am, outdoor cat jumped on my head. I burrowed beneath my comforter and pillow but she persisted with a leggy tap dance on my kidneys. She followed with some "brrrip, brrip" chatter that immediately made me think of the movie "Gremlins" and I made a mental note to keep her away from water. Her tireless efforts finally paid off as I threw back my covers and returned to the kitchen. I filled up the empty dishes and then made my way, blurry eyed, back to bed.

I must have dozed off, because it seemed like only seconds had passed before outdoor cat jumped onto my chest for an early-morning staring contest. I lost. Then I lost it. I picked up outdoor cat and encouraged her outside for some early morning sun -- and by encouraged, I mean I opened the door and threw her outside onto the deck.

I returned to the warmth of my bed and curled beneath the blankets and rested my eyes. Unable to fall back asleep and resigned to the lost opportunity for a leisurely sleep-in, I cracked open my eyes....to see her....staring at me from the window. I dragged my butt out of the bed and turned to see her walk away, satisfied that I was finally out of bed. My brand new alarm clock. My new asshole cat.